


Viridity

by kalpa



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Post-Low Chaos Ending, Pre-DOTO, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-01-19 12:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 62,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12410631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalpa/pseuds/kalpa
Summary: Hired to kill Corvo Attano, you stumble upon a plot that could send an empire reeling. Will you destroy the world to save yourself?---Viridity: Naive Innocence---On Hiatus.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hey there - i'm back with ANOTHER reader insert. these are just so much fun to write, and considering the fact that i've always been obsessed with dishonored and been longing to write a reader insert for it, i guess i should post this.  
> this is a WIP. hopefully i'll update every other week or every week, but it honestly depends on whats going on in my life. i have a job, school and two other reader inserts to write.  
> HOWEVER, if this does get a lot of kudos and whatnot, it'll definitely be updated more and faster.  
> \---  
> quick note thats relevant to the entire story:  
> if i get something wrong in terms of lore and characters, i apologize. the game and universe is so fucking big its mind boggling. i do try my hardest to do research and get everything right, but sometimes things slip by.  
> the story does revolve around the imperial court and its members, and theres not a whole lot of info in that area. so if things are wrong or incorrect, i apologize in advance.  
> \---  
> this reader insert will be pretty serious. like the description says, it revolves around an assassin reader who's hired to kill corvo. things get messy along the way, surpise surprise!  
> \---  
> enjoy~

The bar was a mess of old wood stained with blood and alcohol from bar fights, splashed with a brilliance of warm reds and oranges. Only the weary now adorned its barstools, hunched over drinks they pay plenty coin for only to swallow down as though it were water. The sophisticated have long gone home, their coin now pocketed in the pockets of the bartender. The man merely stands behind the bar, cleaning glasses and making cheap drinks for the miserable men.

You held a small glass in your own hand, still half full with some brandy. But you don’t allow yourself to drink to the point of memory loss, or even a light mind. No, you drink to think, to mull over the reason of your being at this old bar.

You’d first come here to steal from the pockets of the drunk at the ripe age of fourteen. Desperate for coin, you’d clumsily take the coin from drunk men’s pockets and forgotten tables. The bartender had not forgotten, eyes trained on your shadow in the corner.

But now you were no foolish, untrained child.

There was a reason why the bartender did not kick you out, did not ban you. You brought business. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that any  _ official  _ business be kept on the streets.

Corpses were bad for business.

You checked your pocket watch, eyes narrowing at the time. Your client was late by ten minutes, and while it may not seem as though it were much, you were not a patient woman with a drink in your hand. There were places to be.

There were mouths to feed. 

The creak of a door made your pocket watch quickly retreat into your jacket, eyes rising from under your brow. A tall figure approached the bar, hands in pockets and shoulders taut with tension. The flames of the lights made them appear to be a man, and you pursed your lips.

Men were easy. They longed for simple power. Women? They often yearned for more than simple power. They wanted control, absolute dominance.

The man looked to the bartender, prompting him to gesture in your direction. The man turned, revealing someone of higher status. Your eyes narrowed, yet it was shrouded by the shadows. You’d had rich clients before, but this man… 

He looked familiar.

The man wore a tailored suit, outlining his straight body. He looked somewhat uncomfortable as he approached the table, and you assumed it was because he was rarely in this part of town. It wasn’t renowned for its beauty, after all.

The steps he took were slow and methodical, hands still tucked away. You raised your glass with one hand, the other on the gun hanging off you hip. He looked like a rat trying to worm its way into your walls, preparing to steal the last of your food and the last of your family. 

You knew that all too well.

The man took a seat across from you, and you held the glass in your hand. “Lady Wildfire?” he asked, and you snickered.

“ _ Lady,  _ aye?” you asked, and the man gave a confident smirk.

“I’m afraid I’m untrained in this...profession,” he hummed, and you took another sip of your drink. 

“First, tell me who you are,” you said, setting the drink down. The man seemed surprise, the smirk disappearing from his face. You bit your lip at his reaction. Was he someone worth knowing? Getting involved with the wrong people never resulted in anything good.

“You...don’t know me?” he said, and you rolled your eyes, sighing.

“Did you not hear me?” you hissed, eyes narrowed as you met his eyes. There was genuine disbelief sparking in his green irises, but you saw some sick humor, pleasure there too. Was he playing with you? With a growl, you unsheathed the knife you kept beside your gun, bringing it down between the two of you.

The echoing  _ THACK  _ bounced off the stained wood of the bar, yet the patrons and bartender did not shake. They continued drinking and cleaning. The man, however, jolted back, eyes wide in horror. It made your lips curl. 

“ _ Who. Are. You?”  _ you hissed, and the man’s eyes flicked from the weapon in the table and your face. Shaking, he swallowed.

“I’m...Julius Moss,” he said. “Julius Moss!”

Within a moment, you were leaning across the table, knife to ‘Julian’s’ throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed under the blade, hands wrapped around your wrists. “Who sent you?” you growled, watching his eyes. There were no tears, yet there was so much fear he practically stunk. “Did the Watch send you?” 

“No!” he cried, shaking his head. “No! They didn’t! They-they don’t know! Nobody knows!” He was so pale you feared he would pass out on you. Yet he didn’t. He remained awake, shaking in his boots. You did not see dishonesty in his eyes, did not hear it from his lips. It would be nearly impossible for the Guard to know of you. You’d kept a low profile for nearly a decade. 

“Why are you here?” you sneered, wrapping your arm in his nice, expensive suit. He licked his lips.

“I need someone killed,” he whispered, and you laughed. 

“Bet you got a lot of enemies with your spot on the Court, huh?” you asked, and Julius let out a breathless laugh, swallowing.

“Not many. Just one,” he explained. You clenched your jaw, pressing the knife tighter against his throat for a moment. The hesitant smile that’d been on his face was once again wiped away into the wooden planks beneath him. But you did not kill him, no.

He was not lying.

You leaned back, sheathing your knife back at your side. Julius flopped back in his chair, eyes wide as he gasped as though he’d been drowning. His ringed hand rubbed at his throat, a stark paleness against the red you could’ve painted it. You killed, but you made sure to get paid for doing so.

“Who?” you asked, lifting your glass to your lips. Julius straightened his jacket, ever the pompous Imperiall Court asshole. He took a deep breath, seemingly composing himself before meeting your eye.

“The Royal Protector,” he said. 

You didn’t respond.

“...Corvo Att-”

“Moss, I know who the fuck the Royal Protector is. I’m just trying to understand how someone in the Imperial Court is so fucking dumb,” you said before letting out a deep breath. The bar was silent besides the occasionally bump of glasses and gulp of drink. Moss seemed unsure of what to say, of what to do. After all, he’d just asked you to kill the fucking  _ Royal Protector.  _

Pursing your lips, you pulled your pocket watch out. It was nearly midnight, and you had plans to attend to. You had people to see. The pegs of your chair scraped across the floor as you stood, a harsh noise against the constant silence of the bar. But chaos soon followed. “If you’re going to waste my time, then I’m afraid I have better things to attend to,” you sighed, disappointed in the lack of a deal. You needed coin. 

You could feel Julius’s disappointment and desperation as you glided across the floor, a soft clack of your heels drowning out his mumbles. He seemed to be looking for words among his gibberish, among the stare of the bartender and drinks of the weary. But you didn’t turn and grant the silence he wanted, the moment he needed to speak. 

Instead you flicked a coin towards the bartender, who reached up with practiced ease to catch it. It landed in his palm, and you smirked, just as you always did, before turning. You could take up some gang eliminations. The pay could range from fifty coin to five hundred depending on the member requested. There was a gradual rise of gang activity in the slums, too, so you could earn some quick coin.

But clients oftentimes had a greater goal in plan, a greater person to kill. They paid more, and you needed that. But killing fucking  _ Corvo Attano?  _ The man who lost it all and fought so hard he got it all back? You wanted coin, not to be fucking murdered. 

“Ten thousand coin!” 

You stopped, and you heard the bartender halt in his cleaning. The weary did not drink, and the wretched did not even snore. No, it was completely silent.

Just what Julius wanted.

Being stubborn, you momentarily considered walking out to not give him the pleasure of making you turn. It would feel good to not let the rich, pompous Court member get what he wanted for once. But it wouldn’t feel good not having all that coin.

You clenched your jaw, turning to look back at the man. He was standing tall, with eyes narrowed and lips thin. He knew you couldn’t refuse. Who in the right mind would deny such an offer?

“Are you fucking insane?” you hissed, facing him now. Your fingers were twitching at your side, unsure of what to do. You had never been paid so much for killing someone. The most you’d earned was one thousand coin for killing the leader of a gang. 

“No, I’m just ambitious,” he said, smirking. He knew he’d snagged you, gotten your attention. He knew you couldn’t walk away. After all, you were just a girl from the slums. 

You weren’t a fool, however. Why would a member of the Imperial Court want Corvo Attano dead? His main goal was to keep the Empress safe and alive. By doing so, he kept her in power. Getting rid of Corvo would lead to what happened with Jessamine… With Corvo out of the way and Emily Kaldwin going missing, there were new leaders, new people in power. 

Julius had an endgame, and you briefly considered what would happen if this contract was fulfilled. Whoever Julius had allied himself with would state a coup, and overthrow Empress Emily. They could gain power of Dunwall, and do whatever they wanted.

There would be no Corvo Attano to stop them.

“What are you planning?” you asked, voice low. 

The corners of Julius’s lips turned upwards briefly, almost as though he was amused just at the thought of his plans. But he didn’t let too much show, shrugging as he pocketed his hands. “The coin is not for asking questions,” he said, and you chuckled, looking down to your feet.

If he was going to overthrow Emily Kaldwin, then you needed that coin and get out of here. You had your own plans, and that coin could help you achieve them.

You licked your lips, and your fingers stopped twitching. “Two thousand and five hundred coin upfront, and I’ll do it.”

Julius smiled. “Deal.”

The bartender dropped his glass.

 

Nights in the slums were dangerous. Gangs ran rampant with little to no guards patrolling the area. The Watch had given up after the ward had been rid of the plague, letting things go back to how they were. No one knew of how bad it was now.

Gang members often assaulted women walking the streets at night, killing them and, worse, raping them. Some were taken back to their lairs to be forced into prostitution or even trafficking.

But you...they were scared of you. Your heels were loud among the dirty, muddy streets you walked down, squelching in the wet dirt roads and splashing puddles in all directions. Your eyes were kept straight, head high as you passed the men leaning on the walls.

Some were alone, only each other keeping them company. Others were standing with women blowing smoke, eyes heavily lined and lips brightly painted. When you were younger, you wondered why the women didn’t run, but it was only when you first killed a leader of a ring did you understand.

Their waists were bound by metal belts that kept them from having sex unless unlocked. Their ‘masters’ held the keys. There was no helping these women...not on the streets as you passed them. 

The men did not touch you. The women did not touch you. No one touched you as you passed down the dimly lit road, hood concealing your face but not your figure. 

Everyone here knew you. 

And everyone feared you.

You approached your small dwelling, and threw back your hood as you fell under the protection of the doorway. With a sigh, you pulled the key out of your pocket and placed a hand against the doorknob. But with just a soft push, the door creaked open.

Alarm shot through your veins at the realization your home was unlocked despite you locking it earlier. Your hand pocketed the key, immediately replacing it with your gun. Very few thoughts when through your head as you went into flight or fight, slowly entering your house. You only turned to quietly close the door, locking it to keep the invader from fleeing.

Whoever was in here would meet a brutal end.

You inched down the narrow hallway, back against the wall as you approached the living room. You heard humming, and the soft sound of music. Your heart dropped as you realized the humming sounded like…

You let out an animalistic snarl as you jumped into the living room, gun aimed at whoever was there. A loud scream echoed throughout the small apartment, followed by a loud bang of…

“Adelia!” you yelled, dropping your gun to your side. The girl in question was lying on the ground, a number of books scattered around her. One was even resting on her bosom, sheets splayed. A sheepish grin curled her face, and you pinched the bridge of your nose at the sight. “Outsider take me… What the hell are you  _ doing?”  _ you hissed, holstering your gun with a sigh.

Adelia, still smiling and blushing, sat up whilst gathering her books and papers. “Sorry! I was singing while reading about the history of Serkonos,” she said, and you rolled your eyes as you approached, assisting her in her efforts of gathering her materials. “Did you know the Morley Famine pushed the Morley into Karnaca, settling there due to the rich deposits and land?” she asked as she set some books on the messy dining table.

You huffed a piece of your hair out of your face, positioning the rest of her books on the table with practiced ease. “Yes, and then the rich from Dunwall industrialized the area. The Morley were then pushed to the outskirts in search of work,” you said, frowning at the mess on the table. Various cups were pushed out of the way for Adelia’s studies, with an open suitcase full of clothing. The sight made you frown, heart flipping. After a moment, you recognized the silence and looked over to the girl. Her eyes were trained on you, puzzled in your sudden knowledge of Karnaca. “You told me last week when you were studying Serkonos...again,” you explained.

Adelia’s face turned red, and that grin returned. That smile made her look older than fifteen...look like her mother. 

She looked like both of yours mother. 

The fear and anger you’d felt as you entered the apartment melted away into affection as you smiled at the girl, reaching over and messing her hair up. Adelia yelped and jumped back, a frown on her face as you laughed, gathering the dishes on the table. “Help me pick up will you?” you asked, and you knew Adelia wouldn’t say no. 

You turned on the sink, letting water flow as you cleaned the dishes. Adelia oftentimes drank the cheap tea you bought while studying, and as of late, she’d been rereading all her books at least once a week. This resulted in a number of tea cups being drank as she worked her way through her education over and over again. You had no idea how she did it. You’d barely even passed history in your first year. 

But with Adelia around, you’d learned more from her than you’d ever learned in your brief education. She worked so hard, pushing herself further and further with each day. When she was just a babe, your mother had joked about how big her head was.

“A mighty fine brain must lie in that big ol’ noggin,” she’d often joked whilst giving Adelia a bath. 

How right she’d been.

“So, are you excited?” you asked as Adelia brought over some dishes from the kitchen table and living room. With the question now asked, you could see how Adelia began to think. Whenever she thought you could practically hear the gears turning, her thoughts racing one another. And there was no exception now as she stood next to you, arms crossed and lips pursed.

“Yes! But I’m just…” she trailed off, hesitant to continue.

“Nervous?” 

“Yes,” Adelia sighed. “I am excited, I promise, I’m just...worried I’m not going to be good enough...smart enough.”

You paused in your cleaning, your brows furrowed in thought. Adelia was chewing her lip as you frowned at the floor, caught up in her worries. She had no idea how beautiful she was, how intelligent she was. You’d never met someone so determined, so committed to doing so good.

You wished you were like her...full of hope and good. But the mud of the streets dirtied you into who you were, who would you be.

And you would be the woman to topple an empire. 

You turned off the sink, placing a hand on her shoulder. Adelia looked up at you, bright eyes so vulnerable. She never let anyone see this except you...her big sister. You would do anything for her...you  _ had  _ done everything for her. “Mom and Dad would have been so proud of you, Ady,” you whispered, and Adelia smiled. 

She wrapped her arms around you, burrowing her head into your neck. She was shorter than you, as all the others except your brothers had been. You wondered if your other sisters would be as tall as her, or if they would reach your height. Adelia had to stand on the tips of her toes just to reach your shoulders. It reminded you of how small she was, of how young she was. She was going to go far, but she was still so unmarked, so innocent. You wanted her to stay that way, but you knew it was impossible she could remain so young and naive.

Especially now.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered into her hair. You felt her embrace tighten, and with a grin, you reached to mess her hair up. The locks flew everywhere and she jumped back with a squeal. You laughed loudly as you turned around, returning to the dishes 

Adelia pouted for a moment as she fixed her appearance, letting out a loud huff as she looked at you. “You’re so mean,” she sighed.

“I’m your sister,” you said.

“A mean sister.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, and Adelia giggled before pausing. A sad look came on her face as she stood there, and you paused, fearful for a moment you’d upset her. “I’m gonna miss you,” she said, and your chest constricted at her words. 

“I’ll visit you,” you said. 

“Will you?” she asked, eyes glittering with hope.

You nodded, smiling through your lies.. “Of course I will, Ady. What would I ever do without my little sister?” you teased and Adelia rolled her eyes. For a moment, you let the weight of your mission, your task weigh upon you. You would lose your sister for a time, but you told yourself you would find her again. 

And this time, you would actually sail from Dunwall. 

“It’s gonna be awfully quiet here with me gone,” she said, and you giggled, forcing yourself to get over your fear and sadness. It was something you’d practiced ever since a young age, and it was something you found you’d mastered.

So you smiled. You laughed. 

“Thank the Outsider! I’ve dreamed this day ever since Mom popped you out screaming!” you cried and Adelia threw a rag at you. You dodged it, rushing to Adelia with lethal intent. She noticed, scurrying off to the bedroom with a squeal. “You fool!” you yelled as she closed the door behind her. “There is no lock!” you laughed, pushing it open with ease. Adelia jumped back with laughter, trying to run away. But you grabbed her from behind, tickling her sides viciously. 

“Stop!” she yelled through giggles. “I can’t breathe!”

“Oh, whatever will the Academy do without such an esteemed member?” you cried. “What will they do knowing the TICKLE MONSTER killed their new student?!” you gasped, and Adelia stuck her tongue out at you. 

“Little did they know the tickle monster had a weakness!” Adelia cried, and you paused for a moment, eyes widening. Adelia smirked for a moment before closing her eyes.

“No!” you gasped, shaking your head. “Please...no!” you begged, backing up. But Adelia did not stop, no. She turned to face your voice, and opened her eyes to reveal…

The puppy eyes.

You collapsed to your knees with a scream. “Outsider...no!” you cried, and Adelia rolled onto her side, hysterically laughing. You grinned too, looking at Adelia as she lay on the mattress you two shared. Tomorrow, she would leave for the University and you would sleep on the mattress alone.

You would infiltrate Dunwall Tower and begin your mission of killing the Imperial Protector, the infamous Corvo Attano himself. Adelia had no idea… All she knew was that she was going to the University of Natural Philosophy as an esteemed member, entering with some of the highest marks. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t cheap.

But you would make it work.

You always made it work.

With a soft smile, you crawled over and lay beside your younger sister. She was staring at the ceiling now, smile gone and furrow in her brow returned. You reached up and poked her cheek, making her eyes flash over to you. “What’s wrong?” you asked, voice silent among the rain pounding on the ground beyond the walls.

You two had lay here nights on end, feeling small and little among the immaculate universe. Once, you’d just been a small girl picking pockets to get an apple or two at the end of the day. Once, Adelia had just been a small babe who survived a wild storm and the crash of a ship.

But you two defied all odds.

You’d seen it all, and you were alive.

You two were alive, and somehow, okay. 

“Everything is changing,” she whispered, voice almost lost among the shadows and rain. But you heard her, yet you did not speak. “What do I do?” she asked, and you bit your lip, understanding what she felt all too well.

You reached up, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You wake up, survive the day, and go to sleep,” you whispered. “You repeat that every day...and soon, it’s not so scary.”

Silence washed over the two of you just as the rain washed over the dirt, the grass and the people of Dunwall. It was heavy, familiar yet not longed for. 

“Will you be okay?” Adelia asked, and you smiled. 

“Yes. Will you?” you asked, and Adela smiled.

“Yes.” 

You leaned in to press a kiss against her forehead before turning to get up. A hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back. Confused, your gaze turned to Adelia who looked just as she did ten years ago when you first came here. She looked scared, terrified of the vast shadow the world cast upon the two of you. “Stay here,” she begged. “We have one more night and I just...want to be like how we always were.”

“Are you packed?” you asked, and Adelia nodded. You had to get ready for your own mission, had to prepare and pack. You had to make a character, make someone you were not.

You smiled as you lay down beside your young sister, pulling a blanket over the two of you. 

It was you two against the world.

And on the last night before everything changed, you were merely yourself. 

(Y/N) Walsh. 

 


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You infiltrate Dunwall Tower, and begin your mission to kill Corvo Attano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there ya'll!  
> Sorry for the long wait - had some stuff going on in my life such as working, losing my cat and school!  
> This story will probably be updated monthly, as many chapters are going to be long and complex.  
> But I'm super pumped for this story. The planning was completed a while ago, and I promise that it's going to be good.  
> So, enjoy this chapter!!!

It’s hard to say hello and promptly goodbye to a new life, promising and peculiar all at the same time. It was difficult for you to let go of Adelia in the morning, when the footsteps of workers splashed on by the bedroom windows and the ships horns roared with its engines. It was painful to see her dress in the Academy’s uniform, spotless and tidy with the curls in her hair and the smile curling her young face.

It was hard to say goodbye to her as she walked down the muddy road, no longer going to fetch water or food with the little coin you had. Instead, she was going to say hello to her new life in the Academy...a life where there was a bright future and an even brighter present for her. 

It was harder to say goodbye and then promptly say hello to a future that would destroy an empire, and possibly the world. It was hard to pack up the clothes you’d worn on simpler days, but never harder. For leaving behind the flat you had called “home” behind empty and locked in favor of a cold tower and an even more bitter future was the hardest thing you would do.

That, and killing Corvo Attano.

Was it selfish for you to leave everything behind in hopes of ten thousand coin? Possibly, yet Adelia would need the coin for school. She would need the coin to attend the school, and eventually, the two of you would need it to buy passage to Serkonos in hope of the family you’d attempted to find over a decade ago. Of course, if the seas hadn’t been harsh and the weather unforgivable, you would’ve found lost family. If you had landed in Serkonos with one more sister who wasn’t lost to the Void’s eternal gaze, you wouldn’t be in this position.

You wouldn’t be abandoning your past and destroying the future. 

But here you were, eyes sharp with makeup and lips pursed with thought. You knew you looked stunning, that you appeared confident and qualified for the job of being a maid. Hell, if you licked your lips and fluttered your eyes enough, you could get whatever job you wanted.

But none of it would get you ten thousand coin. Not by the time you needed it.

The woman in charge of hiring the maids was an older woman with loose lines around her lips and narrowed lips. Her hair had long since lost its color, pulled back into a tight bun that sat on the top of her head. She was short and curt, caught in a routine that revolved around her work teaching and caring for the maids.

Her primary goal was to keep people like  _ you  _ out of the tower, and as far away from the Empress as possible. But with forged papers and a dangerous smile, it was easy to get past this part. The other parts? They’d be much more difficult and demanding. 

“I see you worked with the Boyles,” the woman, who introduced herself as Elizabeth, stated, looking up from your papers at you. She held reading glasses on the tip of her nose with a gloved hand, eyes narrowed and speculative. 

If you’d worked with the Boyles, it would be to cash in on their secrets and eventually their bodies. You would never wear their maid’s outfit and take care of anything associated with them. You remembered staring up at their brightly lit estate from the dirty streets, rats nipping at your feet and scurrying along in search of better prey. You’d dreamed to be like them, to live like them and not the daughter of a miner. 

You felt no pity when Lady Boyle disappeared. 

“Yes… I worked with them until Lady Boyle’s...disappearance,” you said, averting your eyes from Elizabeth in an attempt to appear sad. You let your eyes well up with fake tears, and thinned your lips with a poorly hid cough. You saw Elizabeth furrow her brow, but not in disdain. No, your ruse was working. “Many of us left when she disappeared. We couldn’t bear working there without her. It felt...empty,” you said, looking back to Elizabeth. Her eyes searched yours, trying to understand what you felt.

She wouldn’t see how little you actually cared. 

Elizabeth nodded, pursing her lips as she looked down to her papers. You knew you appeared genuine, and skilled in terms of being a maid. You’d made sure your papers were impressive yet realistic, that you sat straight and had attentive eyes. It was all a part of your mission. “I see here that you worked the next years with various estates, such as with the Moss family,” she asked, looking back up to you.

She wasn’t wrong...you were working with the Moss’. Julius hadn’t given you many rules with your current mission, but you knew that having a connection with him outside of the Tower would be a wise move. That way, it wouldn’t be deemed odd or unexpected if you spoke with him inside the Tower or Court. 

You nodded, smiling softly. “Yes, I’ve worked at the Moss estate for the past two years,” you said, feigning happiness with raised eyebrows and glinting eyes. “It was a wonderful opportunity. I honed my skills both as a maid and as-” you wanted to puke, “a lady.” You were anything but  _ a lady.  _ But appearing feminine and soft would increase your likelihood to be hired. While the Tower was more of a progressive place to work under Empress Emily’s rule, people were still stuck in the ways of the past. They expected women to have evasive eyes and quiet lips. 

You had neither. 

“A lady, eh? Why be a maid instead of marrying into the Moss family?” Elizabeth asked, subconsciously leaning forward. It was a subtle movement, but one that you were trained to catch. Her posture indicated that she liked the gossip, to hear about the shadows of people’s lives and expose them for giggles. Normally, you would shut down whoever was trying to dig into you. 

But for now, you tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and smiled. “I enjoy being a maid,” you explained, and Elizabeth sat back, eyebrow arched. She was surprised by your remark, but not negatively. It would look good to be devoted, even if it made you appear bland. You wanted to be normal in her eyes, and even boring under the Lord Protector’s gaze. That way you could kill him with ease. 

Or with as much ease came with killing an innocent man and possibly destroying an empire. 

Elizabeth hummed before looking back down at your papers, pursing her lips in thought. She scribbled a few things down while you merely sat there, watching her with calm, narrowed eyes. You should’ve been nervous… If you were rejected from the Tower, then killing Corvo Attano would nearly be impossible. You needed to infiltrate their ranks, learn his schedule and then execute him in the shadows.

You needed to gain the trust of the Tower, make them believe you were just a maid and not an assassin.

But you needed to actually be in the Tower and not be trespassing for that to work.

“I like you,” Elizabeth finally said, taking her glasses of while looking up at you. You couldn’t help the soft smile that curled your face, innocence and naivety blushing your cheeks. “I will pass these papers along to the Lord Protector for verification, and will send word once he approves of you. It was an honor to meet you Miss…” Elizabeth trailed off, hand thrust forward in the expectation of a shake. You let your eyes widen in pleasure that wasn’t fake for a moment before grinning, shaking the old woman’s hand.

“Vivienne,” you said. “Miss Vivienne.”

 

Step One: Be hired as a maid for the Dunwall Tower.

Complete.

 

You stayed at a respectable hotel while you awaited word from Dunwall Tower. You could have no link tying you back to your now empty home, vacant and locked with a key you dug several feet deep. You had dug your old life a grave, tucked it in deep and bid farewell with nothing more than the soles of your shoes. 

It wasn’t hard to wait at the hotel. There was a restaurant that served wonderful food, and you found it an acceptable place to lure lonely men into buying you drinks at night. The area was fine as well, with well dressed people and hard working men. There wasn’t nearly as much mud underneath your feet, and the air felt clean in your throat and lungs.

It was hard to deal with your thoughts, and the danger of your emotions. You may be an assassin for hire, yet you weren’t without a heart. The few people you had killed deserved it. One man was a child molester, and another women ran a brothel so brutal that women died from all sorts of disease. You knew Corvo had killed before...to rescue Emily from a coup that had killed her mother. You’d read all about it. 

Yet he did not kill for fun. He killed to protect Emily...and you knew you would do the same for Adelia.

That was why you’d accepted the request, after all…to protect her and her future. 

You kept telling yourself that with all that coin, you two could finally go to Karnaca and find the rest of your family. Your mother had told you that her and your father had run away to be together when they were young, ending up in a much worse situation in your opinion. You’d overheard your father asked her to send word they were alive and in need of coin, yet she had refused in the name of pride. 

Your father had died in a mining accident, and you’d lost your mother shortly after. Desperate for help, you’d spent every last coin you had to get you and your two sisters to Karnaca in search of family.

Now, you only had one sister and was going to kill the Lord Protector for coin.

Thankfully, you did not have to wait and think for long. It was only a week after you met with Elizabeth when there was a soft knock on your door, an envelope slipping through the door’s small port. You had been drinking tea and reading the paper, jumping to attention at the noise within a heartbeat. 

For a subsequent moment, you feared the Watch had caught wind of your plan...that the bartender and the patrons had tipped them off. A single hand had dropped from the paper to the dagger you hid among your thigh, fingers clenching around the handle with startling force. You waited with held breath for the Watch to burst through your door, guns high and eyes angry.

Yet they never came.

No… Instead, the soft brush of paper slipped through the door’s port and fell flat upon the floor. Relieved, you closed your eyes whilst letting a deep breath out, fingers releasing the dagger to return to the table. Soft laughter escaped you as you stood, turning to walk to the door.

You were still hesitant as you approached the envelope, understanding very well it could be a trap. The Watch could be luring you closer for an easier arrest, or the envelope could be coated in a poison so deadly you would burst from the inside out. You had respect in the streets, yes, but you still had enemies who would be more than glad to see you dead.

Your fears were subdued when you saw the official emblem of the Empress, stamped on the envelope’s fold. And most importantly...the mail addressed you as Vivienne. Any enemies you possessed did not know of your alias, and therefore would write to your true name. You unconsciously let out a sigh of relief at the sight, biting your lip as you finally took in the sight of the letter.

You’d never dreamed of being written to by the Empress, even if it was actually from her advisors and officials. A poor girl, you’d always dreamed of being a princess, of having all the money in the world and every toy you asked for. And now here you were…

You would not be a princess, an Empress. No, you would destroy the Empire...take away the man that keeps her safe and on the throne. 

You pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, opening the envelope with shaky fingers. It was a rough tear, one that spoke true depths of your anxiety and fear. If you weren’t accepted as a maid, your approach would have to be much dirtier and much more incriminating. Assassinating Corvo as a maid would be easier to cover up, as you could sneak in and take him by surprise. But breaking in? Climbing the walls or coming up through the sewers? That was much more difficult.

And it was much more damning. 

The Watch would be on your ass so fast you couldn’t even swallow a cyanide pill...and that was even if you succeeded in the assassination. Corvo had survived The Knife of Dunwall, had survived a coup and much more… 

What threat could a little girl from poverty pose? 

You pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from the envelope, revealing it to your eyes. You hastily read over the letter.

_ Dear Vivienne Parks, _

Yep...that was you… Vivienne Parks, well trained maid that served under the Boyles and the Moss family. You took care of two brothers and three sisters so you knew enough about cleaning up.

_ With the utmost glee...Blah bla _ h fancy stuff you honestly didn’t care about. Something about how you were properly vetted and verified, thus proving your skill. You were sure they’d asked around about you, but with enough coin to the right people, you’d bought word from pretty little lips. 

You knew what to anticipate. 

_ Dunwall Tower would be ecstatic to accept you as a maid.  _

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in as you collapsed into your chair. Sitting there, you realized how much you were sweating. Drops of perspiration were trickling down your face, and gathering at the collar around your neck. Your mouth was dry as well, and you reached over to an iced cup of whiskey you’d prepared for the evening.

It was the afternoon, not the evening. Yet you drank it anyways.

You had done it. You’d gotten into Dunwall tower. Despite all odds, you had infiltrated the palace of the Empress with your reputation, your words and your coin. And with this development, your plan was now underway.

You set the glass down. 

 

Step Two: Be accepted as a maid into the Tower. 

Complete. 

 

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Finally approaching Dunwall Tower with the single piece of luggage you had made you realize there was no going back. Entering the Tower would be a point of no return… You could never return to the small flat you’d called home for nearly a decade, never visit Adelia at her university and see all the great things she was doing…

And you could never come back to Dunwall after you finished your mission. 

But you couldn’t turn back...you couldn’t refuse that coin. With it, you could get both you and Adelia to Karnaca in search of your mother’s rich parents, and finally live in comfort. Adelia could go to the universities there and be happy...and feel safe.

Maybe there...with the coin and possible family...maybe the two of you wouldn’t just have to  _ feel  _ safe. Maybe there, the two of you could  _ be  _ safe…

The thought made the knot in your chest slightly unwind, making it easier to breathe and stand. It made it easier to look at the place you would spend the next month or so... the final place you would plan an assassination and actually execute one. With that coin, you wouldn't have to steal.

And you wouldn’t have to kill.

With that thought, you gathered up your bags and approached the Tower. There were various people outside waiting to meet with a representative or even protesting, yet they did not frighten you. Of all things, being among them made you feel safe...as though you belonged. Among the well dressed and well spoken, you felt out of place...constantly judged and threatened. But among their bad breath and tattered clothes, you were okay.

It made it easier for you to squeeze through and approach the guards, showing the fake I.D you’d bought. Even with the anxiety of killing Corvo Attano, you did not feel fear as they inspected your I.D. The man you’d paid for it was a trusted advisory who’d helped smuggle you to many places. The guards looked at you up and down before snorting, handing back your I.D.

“A maid? You gonna wear a lil skimpy costume for us?” the one who snorted asked, and the other guard handed back your I.D, an annoyed expression on her face. 

“Shut the fuck up, Gerald,” the woman guard hissed, frowning at him. You smirked at her disgusted expression, yet “Gerald” persisted.

“What? I’m just joking around,” Gerald grumbled.

“Yeah? Well you won’t be laughing when I report you for drinking on the job, huh?” the woman said, and Gerald paled, shutting the fuck on up. The woman chuckled before looking at you, an understanding smile on her face. “Welcome Miss Marsh… You’re going to be a very fine maid,” the woman said, curtsying to you. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and you liked it, smiling to yourself.

“Thank you, Miss…?”

“Thompson,” the lady replied, tipping her hat. You fluttered your eyelashes, smiling a soft smile that curled at the edges. 

“Thank you, Miss Thompson,” you said, voice light and flirty. Thompson grinned, a soft blush on her cheeks.

Gerald gagged and turned, opening up the door into the Tower with the roll of his eyes. “Gross,” he said as the door creaked open.

It was important to have good relations, especially with guards. You never knew when you could use them.

Warm air crept over your face, briefly jarring your hair. Your eyes adjusted to the dull room that expanded before you, widening after a moment. The room was huge...larger than you could ever dream to live in. Hell, this wasn’t even where the Empress slept in...ate dinner in. This was only the entrypoint for guards, guests and so on.

Your wonder must’ve shone on your face as Thompson giggled, making you look back. She winked just before the door closed behind you, letting out a loud bang that echoed off the vast walls. You jumped a lil before taking a deep breath, calming yourself. Acting amazed when you’d been with the Boyles would be odd, so you bit your lip and appeared disinterested.

You were here to kill Corvo Attano… That was why you were here.

Focus on the mission… Focus on getting the coin. 

You pushed onward, trying to not let the magnificent architecture get to you. But questions raced in your head… Where would you stay? Would it be as brilliant as this? You had no idea what to expect, but you stayed attentive. Knowing the layout of the building was a key factor in an assassination. There was no way you’d just walk into Corvo’s quarters and kill him.

You had to be sneaky, and that involved using both people and environment in your favor. 

You slowly walked up an impressive staircase, pulling out the letter you’d received a few days prior. It detailed when you were expected to show, and what to do. You’d been instructed to ask for Headmistress Kelly who would give you a tour and show you to your room.

But…

You reached the top of the stairs, and took in the rest of the building. Deep reds decorated the floors with accented rugs, fine vanity and counters on either side of the hallway. Paintings that were surely rare hung up on the walls, illuminated by the soft glow of candles. 

Where the hell would you go to find Headmistress Kelly?

Even just seeing the place was bewildering. What would walking through it be like? What would  _ living  _ in it be like? 

And what would planning an assassination in it be like?

You bit your lip, jerking yourself from your thoughts. You needed to take action, not thought. So you walked through the hallways, head held high as you presented yourself with the utmost confidence. 

You followed the main hall until it opened up into a larger room filled with tables. There were various signs at each chair, and you squinted, approaching to read. Some fancy names were written on the signs, and you recognized a few as established members of society. You had never dreamed of stepping foot anywhere near them, of even breathing in the same room as them.

But here you were now… 

“Can I help you?” a feminine voice full of power asked, and you looked up. A woman stood at the top of the stairs, red eyebrows perked and lips thin. She donned the uniform of a maid, but with more class.

“Are you...Headmistress Kelly?” you asked, turned away from the tables. She nodded, not breaking her graceful poise. You licked your lips, falling back into play. You curtsied with a smile. “Vivienne Marsh reporting for duty.”

Footsteps clicked down the stairs, and, as much as you wanted to, you didn’t look up. It was considered impolite to break a curtsey before dismissed, according to a book of Adelia’s. In the time before coming here, you’d tried to prepare yourself the best you could.

The footsteps eventually stopped in front of you, yet you were not dismissed. You held your eyes down on the floor, not even adjusting to look at the Headmistress’s shoes. “Miss Marsh,” she softly said, and you took the cue. You didn’t break the curtsey, but now you looked up to her. She had speculative eyes, taking in every detail you presented, have it be conscious or subconscious. But you did not break… You never broke. “I’ve heard promising things of you,” she said, and your false smile grew again. She would never know you wished for her to turn you away, to lock you up and prevent you from killing Corvo. 

“And of you,” you replied. Kelly smiled.

“Welcome, Miss Marsh.”

 

Now with Kelly, a proper tour was given of the Tower. While it was nauseatingly big and beautiful, you did not display how your stomach turned and your chest tightened. Kelly assumed you’d stayed with the Boyles for years. This was nothing to Vivienne, the woman you played.

The halls were decorated with lush reds, and expensive vanity. You acted unimpressed as Kelly brought you to the kitchen, yet you were dazzled, bewildered, and...cautious.

However beautiful the Tower was, it was dangerous. It possessed plenty of death - old and new. And your hands would add to it. 

Kelly only spoke of information, and not anything personal to her. She spoke of what hallways had what, where each wing was, and what you were expected to do. She was rigid and sharply straight when she spoke and walked, and you understood why she was the Headmistress. She knew what she was doing.

But she didn’t know enough to stop you. 

“And here are the maid’s quarters,” Kelly abruptly said, gesturing to a large wooden door. You stopped walking, looking to the Headmistress. “The empty bed is for you, Miss Marsh. Feel free to get settled in. Your first day starts tomorrow at 8 in the morning,” she stated, looking to you.

You nodded, offering another smile. “Thank you so much, Headmistress,” you said, curtseying once again. Kelly nodded, offering a tight smile in return, holding her arms behind her back. 

You straightened up, approaching the door. You understood that entering this room would establish your mission...your involvement in the death of Corvo Attano. Opening the door, finding your bed, and setting down your bag would be the point of no return… You could never leave this place without blood on your hands.

“Farewell, Miss Marsh.”

You opened the door.

There appeared to be a number of beds against the walls, separated by a room divider that offered a small aspect of privacy. Another door was at the back of the room, and you understood it lead to the bathroom. You wondered if it would be fancy too. There appeared to be no one in the room at the moment, so you stepped in, allowing the door to close behind you.

Many of the beds had colored blankets upon them, with books on the ground or on the nightstand beside it. Some clothes were thrown about, surely prepared for wearing later. Perhaps some maids went out at night, or went on dates. They were highly qualified to be here, and earned a good pay.

But you weren’t here for qualifications, or for any money. You were here to kill.

Biting your lip, you walked down the middle of the room, looking both ways. You tried to find whatever bed was empty, yet none appeared to be. Some were messy, and some were clean… Some were decorated, and some were bare. But each bed spoke of a person you would meet, that you would work with. 

There was one empty bed, however...right at the end. Your bed was pushed near the corner at the back wall. A nightstand was at the left of your bed shoved against the corner, fitting it perfectly. A clock was the only thing upon it, yet you knew the few books you brought with you would soon accompany its space. 

With a sigh, you took a seat on the empty bed. Sleeping on a bed in a frame felt odd, even after the time spent in the hotel. You’d never  _ lived  _ in a place with an actual bed, and the feeling of sitting on an actual one made you close your eyes...and sigh.

How did you get here?

It was a question that made your eyebrows furrow, eyes squeeze, and chest tighten… How had you ended up from a promising student with a loving, hard working family to a woman with only one sister left, assassinating a man that possibly held together an empire? 

How did you get here?

With a deep breath in, you opened your eyes and looked at the wooden wall. You took the pain and fear that made your fingers tighten in your pants and swallowed it, standing up. 

This was for Adelia...for her education and future. You could never had a future...could never go as far as she could. You were meant for this gritty, desperate work. And this was as far as you would go.

Bending down, you opened your bag and began to unpack clothing into the chest at the end of your bed. Most of your clothes were your uniform - white buttoned down shirts with black high waisted pants. It wasn’t too terrible… If you had to wear a short skirt, then you would think otherwise. It would be difficult to kill in one.

A door creaking made you look up, however, and you heard and saw a faint shadow entering the room through the divider. You paused as the person let out a deep sigh, walking towards you. They stopped, however, head turned towards you.

“Oy...are you the new girl?” they asked with a heavily accented voice. They sounded as though they were from the Distillery District. While there were the wealthy in the district, they were more common folk, and had no stigma towards you when you passed through. 

“Yes, I am,” you replied, and the woman began to move, approaching you. Her shoes made hollow clicks on the wood, and you looked over to her approaching figure. You caught quick glimpses of her through the other dividers, but finally got a good look at her once she appeared beyond your bed.

She was a tall woman with wild red hair neatly tied up into a bun. Her eyes were accented with dark eyeliner that made her eyes seem wider, flush pink lips pursed in thought. With one look, you knew she wasn’t among the rich or common folk. She was from folk like you - the ones who feared what each day contained. The realization made you feel less alone. 

“Well, you certainly don’t appear to be waspy,” she said, and her words made you smile. It wasn’t fake.

“No, I don’t think I am,” you replied, and the woman grinned, thrusting her hand out. You were on your knees, yet straightened up to shake her hand. It was confident and sure, and you returned the confidence. 

“I’m Bethany,” she said. “Although you can just call me Beth.”

“I’m Vivienne,” you replied. “Although you can just call me Miss Marsh.”

Beth laughed loudly, shaking her head. “Headmistress Kelly sure is a stickler for decency,” she joked, and you shrugged.

“So was Mrs Boyle,” you said, and Beth rolled her eyes. 

“She was a waspy one, I’ll tell you that,” she laughed, positioning her hands on her hips. “I’ve heard stories of her wonderful parties,” she sneered. “Even during the plague!” 

You nodded. “She was definitely...waspy,” you agreed, trying out the word. It wasn’t a common word where you had lived...it was definitely a “distillery” thing. 

Beth nodded, crossing her arms. “I wasn’t too sad to see her disappear,” she sighed before turned, looking towards the bathroom door. She suddenly looked tired. “I need to bathe. Serving the Moss’s makes me feel grimey and gross,” she groaned, and you paused, breath caught in your throat.

“The...Moss’s?” you asked, voice feeling incredibly small. 

“Yes...those rich men? They always grope at me and the other ladies.” Her fingers tapped on her arms, displaying her displeasure. “Be thankful if you’re never on Court duty… Those men know nothing of respect and dignity,” she grumbled before pursing her lips, eyes glazing over with memories. 

Of course… The Moss’s would obviously be here. The realization that they definitely had an ulterior motive with killing Corvo Attano was not necessarily a new one, but suddenly being locked in their plan was more than chilling. Suddenly, Beth wasn’t the only one with glazed eyes. 

“Well,” Beth began, “it was nice meeting you, Miss Marsh,” she joking said, and you forced a smile on your face. “But I must bathe and get rid of all the smoke and grime on my body. Get some sleep! We get up nice and early!” She turned, opening the bathroom door and disappearing into its grasp. You faintly heard the water turn on, but it was lost in the fuzz that consumed you.

You stared at the wooden wall, thinking.

You were here now...in Dunwall Tower posing as a maid. You had to act like one, all the while planning an assassination. Many eyes would be on you - the maids, the guards, your clients and the famous Corvo Attano himself. You would have to watch every move, and every thought you had. 

You were now Vivienne Marsh - a maid of many years. And when Corvo Attano took his last breath, you would be yourself for just a moment before becoming a wanted woman.

Could you do this?

Yes, you could kill Corvo Attano.

Would you do this?

Yes, you had to in order to secure Adelia’s future. 

Did you want to do this?

No.

No you did not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you read?  
> LEAVE A COMMENT!  
> Comments are such motivators for writing and pumping chapters out. Having little to no feedback to your stories is so disappointing, and results in less chapters. Plus, comments always make my day!  
> LEAVE KUDOS!  
> Kudos help this story get noticed by others, which is again a motivator.  
> AND HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT!  
> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> NOTE:   
> Updated 2/26/18 - Bethany has red hair. Updated some sentences and fixed some mistakes.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's your first day. Easy enough...right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! long time no see.  
> i've decided to really commit to this fanfic. if this chapter seems different than the others, it's because i just started up this fic again in the past few days. things might have changed a bit, but it should be consistent in terms of style from this point on.  
> that being said... i apologize if i got characterizations wrong. i havent read the comics, and i dont believe theres a lot of lore on younger emily. i like to think she's still playful, but is growing more and more into her mother. she is badass after all, right?  
> enjoy~!

Waking up early wasn’t necessarily different, or out of place for you. You oftentimes woke up early to make breakfast for Adelia, or to walk her to school. The slums were dangerous, and there were plenty who would be willing to take advantage of her. You’d ensured her safety every day, have it be morning or night.

You missed her, but she was safe now from the slums and what they harbored. 

And after this, she would forever be safe. She would never have to worry about what to eat, what to study, where to walk and at one time. 

You just had to get through this. You just had to kill Corvo Attano.

Saying it in such a fashion made it sound easy. It wasn’t. 

You had to keep reminding yourself of your purpose as you were woken by something hitting your face... _ hard.  _ Almost on instinct, you jerked straight up and went to grab the knife you always kept under your pillow. It was only when you saw Beth and felt nothing beneath your pillow did you remember where you were... _ who  _ you were.

Beth looked at you with a knowing smirk on her face, and you relaxed, letting a deep breath out. You’d expected some assassin to be there, or even the guards. But it was just Beth who had wet hair and a white tank top that stuck to wet skin. She was rubbing the towel to dry her head, and a quick glance around revealed various women in different states of dress. Some were in uniform, while others were just pulling on their undergarments. No one was in bed, and you briefly feared you were late. 

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Beth said, a laugh playing with her voice. 

You looked up to her briefly, nodding as you searched for a clock. Beth noticed and gestured to your nightstand. You grabbed it, expecting to be an hour late and for the plan to be ruined. Adelia would forever be tight on money, possibly being unable to go to university and-

It was five thirty in the morning… You’d suspected it was six thirty, or even seven! But you were early, and the others were almost all ready to start the day. Your surprise must’ve shown on your face because Beth giggled. “Didn’t think I’d let cha down, did ya?” she asked, and you let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Well, other maids haven’t been so kind in the past,” you replied, and Beth pursed her lips as she nodded vehemently. She turned her back to you now, going to walk away. 

“You’d think we’d help each other, right?” She laughed loudly. “Older woman I worked with at the Hamptons’ once left my clothes out on the wire during a thunderstorm!” Ah yes… The Hamptons. They were yet another wealthy family, money made off the backs of the poor. “Old hag let my clothes fly!” Beth looked back now, eyes wide and horrified at the memory. You couldn’t help but smile. “Bloody cunt prob’ly had my undergarments end up on some poor chap’s face!”

You softly laughed now, standing up to gather your things. You needed to take a bath to prepare for the day. A good maid would be a clean one, after all. “Is the bathroom clear?” you asked Beth and she nodded, pulling her hair back to tie it. 

“Made sure to reserve ya a spot,” she said. “Most girls are out by quarter after five. Cleaning gals gotta scrub after the Guards make a mess.”

You hummed now, pulling your uniform out of your chest. There was no intent to brush Beth off. She was a sweet girl, truly, but you had greater things on your mind than the cleaning girls’ duties. You were up for breakfast duty, if you read right. That brought the possibility of meeting Corvo and the Empress for the first time.

You’d known you’d see the man and the Empress before you killed him, but it was different to know it’d be happening in just a short time. As you pulled out your uniform, you held it to your chest. The black and white clothing was a garb you’d never thought you would wear. As a child, you’d worked to find a job as a maid, but none would hire a lowly girl from the slums. 

You were okay with that, now. After all, many of the families you’d begged were among your first targets. Dirty money lay in their pockets, and you’d made sure to take it all back.

“Nervous?” Beth asked, almost reading your mind. You looked over at the girl. She watched you with speculative eyes, ones that definitely belonged to the Distillery District. She wasn’t here to tear you apart, no… Beth was curious. 

You didn’t want her to get involved in this.

“Wondering if this will fit me,” you joked, and she cracked a wild grin.

“Tell me abou’ it! My uniform barely covers these ol’ knockers,” she said, grabbing at her breasts. A laugh came from your throat, and some of the other maids threw their clothing at her, squealing hysterically. 

You slipped into the bathroom now, using the chaos as your cloak. Locking the door, you leaning against the fine wood, taking a deep breath.You were really doing this, weren’t you? You really were infiltrating the Royal Palace to kill the Royal Protector… 

You, (F/N) Walsh, would be responsible for his death, and possibly the collapse or corruption of the empire.

When you were younger, you’d promised to never kill wrongly. Your blade would only end those who deserved it.

What would you say now? What would you say when you looked at your older self now? You were the sheep’s clothing, but you were nothing more than a wolf.

You were nothing more than another miner’s girl, eyes blinded by the smog and hands dusty from the rocks. Would you bloody your hands? 

Only the Outsider knew. 

  
  


The palace was larger and more grand than anything you’d ever seen before. You’d thought killing Corvo would be the most difficult aspect of the mission. In reality, understanding what each hallway was called, where it was, and where it went was incredibly challenging. 

You knew how to kill. But how to get to the kitchen and where the Redwall Hallway was? You had no idea about that.

Thankfully, you’d been blessed with Beth’s presence. The Outsider seemed to smile upon you, as it turned out she worked kitchen duty that morning as well. When you’d exited the maid’s quarters with her, she’d asked where you were off to. She was quickly giggling with excitement as you answered “breakfast duty”. 

“We’ll be tearin’ up the cidsin!” Beth raved, accent thick and heavy with her joy. You’d shared a smile with her before composing yourself. 

In your private life, you’d find her overwhelming and naive. But as Vivienne Marsh?

Beth was an indispensable ally in this mess of maidery. 

She was wild, breaking clouds apart with her sunny shine wherever she went. Wild freckles dotted her face, making her appear as dirty as the Distilleries but as tasteful as what they brewed. You’d spent a decent amount of time stealing their drinks when you were younger, family falling apart as Jimmy and John grew more destructive with their gangs. Mum was coughing more, your sisters were thinner, and your hands were getting dirtier and dirtier.

“This is your first time, ‘ite?” she asked as you two walked, presumably to the kitchen.

You nodded, pursing your lips. “I occasionally did breakfast at the Boyles, but it was more about the dinner,” you lied, smooth and slick. 

Beth hummed, eyes alight with wonder. “I heard about those parties! Bet it was delicious, aye?”

“They wouldn’t tolerate any less than perfect,” you remarked, and Beth rolled her eyes.

“They deserved what they got.” It was a whisper, but not one of silence. There was deep, controlled rage in Beth’s chest, and you recognized it. A quick glance out of the corner of your eye showed thin lips and narrowed eyes.

The shine that was Beth grew dim. Clouds promising storm passed over the harbor.

She was a nothing from nowhere, just as you were. Bethany, a distillery girl. (Your Name), a miner’s daughter. What an interesting pair?

“The Boyles’ were  _ rank,”  _ you said, voice changing to copy the Distillery’s accent. Beth immediately jerked back to the present, eyes widening as she looked over at you. The corners of your lips turned up into a smirk, and just as quickly as it left, the girl’s shine returned.

She grinned for a moment before throwing her head back, hand coming up to hold your arm. A loud laugh tore itself from her throat, a blush flushing her freckled cheeks. To any guards, you two appeared just as some young, silly girls.

Only the Outsider knew your bloody grime went deeper than any grave. 

 

The kitchen was busy, bustling with different variations of people left and right. The noise it emitted reminded you of the market and shops you frequented as a child, eyes wide with wonder in hopes of one day being able to buy everything you saw. Now your eyes were narrow with suspicion of  _ everyone  _ you saw.

Walking up with Beth was more comforting than walking up alone, and for a moment you wondered what you were there to do. There were others already cooking breakfast. Why did they need you?

A middle aged woman approached you, however, painted lips pulled up in a tight smile that pulled at her eyes. Her hair was up in a tight bun, and you understood her kind right away; filled with venom, skin shed every night, and eyes seeing all.

She was a snake.

“Ah! Ladies!” she said, and a quick glance over to Beth revealed the girl had caught on too. You smirked. Beth was definitely an ally. “So glad to have you here! Bethany Miller,” the woman said as she pointed to said girl, “and Vivienne Marsh!” She pointed to you now as well, and you nodded, a faint smile lighting your features. The woman’s eyes didn’t linger on you, but instead on Beth.

Perfect. You seemed normal, borderline boring. 

“Good morning, Natalia,” Beth said, voice suddenly quiet and restrained. No longer was she a comfortable distillery girl. She was a maid in Dunwall Tower, the home of the Empress and her family. You were too, now. 

“Hope you slept well, Miller,” Natalia said, and Beth nodded her head in acknowledgement. The woman turned her cold eyes on you now, sizing you up for a moment before another fake smile was tossed your way. “You as well, Miss Marsh. Well, I will have you two assist in serving today. Do you think you can handle that?” She clapped her hands together, but it was a quiet noise. 

“Of course,” Beth replied before curtseying. You jolted back to reality, copying the other girl’s movements. Natalia appeared pleased and turned, raising her voice with some other maids. 

Beth stood now, eyes narrow with a frown. You raised an eyebrow in Natalia’s direction. “She’s a  _ diddy _ ,” you whispered, and Beth scoffed.

“You got that ‘ight.” With a sigh, the two of you turned and went to a table littered with fine silver dishes full of food. You wished you could eat such fine food, or at least make it for Adelia. You hoped she was eating food like this right now before her studies. You swore she better be having a healthy meal.

You picked up the platters and rested them on your hands, hoping you appeared legit. In all honesty, you’d practiced some ‘maid’ activities as you waited for acceptance here. You didn’t really know  _ what  _ to train for, but you’d expected to both clean and serve food, so this wasn’t too surprising. Getting the plates up on the flats of your hands wasn’t too challenging, but balancing them as you walked was. You were constantly misstepping to keep the platters from crashing to the ground. Your stumbling earned a few glances. 

You were good at killing not serving food, dammit.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to serve too many plates. Beth seemed to cover you, surely taking pity on you. “Nervous, aye?” she asked, and you genuinely blushed. 

“Yeah…” you trailed off, but Beth patted you on the shoulder. 

“Don’t worry abou’ it! I’ll help with the dishes, you put out silverware, ok?” she said, and you nodded, thankful for her help. Without her, you’d be more lost than you were. Maidery was a necessary part of your plan, but it didn’t make it any easier. 

Who knew being a maid was so hard?

While Beth put out the food, you set the table with expensive cutlery. You could manage such a simple task, and you only had to prepare two seats. But as you watched Beth bring out so much food, you couldn’t help the disdain the twisted in your stomach. You and Adelia could only dream of eating food like this. The amount brought out for one breakfast amounted to how much you two ate over a month, and it was nowhere near this fine.

But after this job, Adelia would eat like this every day. Adelia could get an education almost as great as the Empress’s, and she would go further than her father. She would never have to get her hands dirty, never have to sell her body for money…

And most importantly, Adelia would never have to kill. 

“Positions!” Natalia called, and you jerked from your thoughts, eyes flitting to the clock. It was seven in the morning, aka breakfast time for the Empress. You furrowed your brow, lips pursed as you walked and pressed your back to a wall, hands folded over your lap. 

You would stand here for the next hour, moving and paying attention to every want that passed from lips. Your heart was in your throat as you looked across the large room, making eye contact with Beth. To others, she appeared stoic and cold, but you recognized the subtle frown on her face.

She met your eyes too, and spared a smile. You were going to smile back when the door opened. 

You straightened, eyes trained on a spot above Beth. She did too, eyes glazing over just as yours had. The only sound for a moment was your heart as you anticipated the entry of a life you would soon ruin. Would it be the life you’d kill, instead?

A loud yawn answered your question, and you spared a quick glance towards the source. A young girl entered the room, stretching with a sigh. Her black hair was neatly combed down, just barely reaching past her ears. She was maybe five foot, and you remembered she was now fourteen. Something in you stuttered, tripping over itself.

Adelia was sixteen.

Your eyes flitted down now, and you didn’t let your confliction show. The empress was around your sister’s age...and  _ Outsider,  _ could you see the resemblance between the two. Emily Kaldwin still looked youthful and naive, but there were bags under her eyes. She knew the weight of the world, but still held it up just fine. Adelia had that same light in her eyes that the Empress did, and she was only barely just taller.

The impact that your assassination of Corvo would had would be significant on this girl. Not only had Emily lost her mother, after your mission here she would lose her supposed father. 

Emily slowly made her way to the end of the table, taking a seat. “Where’s Corvo?” she sleepily asked as another maid took off the tops to the serving platters. Steaming pancakes were revealed, and you couldn’t help but salvate slightly at the sight and smell. The maid went to serve her some of the food, but Emily raised a hand. “I can do it myself, thank you,” she said, and you were...surprised.

Weren’t all nobles greedy and selfish? The ones you encountered were. You wouldn’t be surprised if some had maids to wipe their arse. 

But the fucking Empress of Dunwall grabbed herself some pancakes while countless others wouldn’t dare lift a pinky. 

Natalia stepped forward, bowing slightly. “The Royal Protector said he will be a bit late, Empress,” she said, voice sickeningly sweet. Emily looked over at the lady with thoughtful eyes as she paused in cutting up her food. Her lips pursed in thought. 

“Hmm… I hope he’s okay,” she mumbled before turning her attention back to the pancakes. You watched her for a moment before returning your gaze to the wall. It was difficult to look at the lives you would ruin, so you tried to space out. You didn’t have much to help with, after all. Beth would be taking care of the plates.

You wondered what Adelia was up to. Today would be the start of her second week, and you hoped she’d found friends. She always had been a kind girl, friendly and charming when she wasn’t in her books. You were sure she’d do great. Adelia had always been talented.

It was the creak of the door opening that made you move your gaze. You feared it would be the Royal Protector, and briefly prayed to the Outsider it wouldn’t be the man you were hired to kill. When you heard Emily move and yell, “Corvo!” in a sing-song voice, you closed your eyes.

You were (Y/N) Walsh, a miner’s daughter that rose from ashes to a renowned assassin. You delivered justice when the Watch failed to do so. You restored hope in communities by eliminating those who hurt them. You killed with grace, a knife always in your hands.

And just as soon as the fear came, it disappeared. It melted into the soft thud of your heart as you opened your eyes, hands held behind your back with a particular elegance. 

You could kill the man you would see. He was just another victim, one that had surely wrong others. You would kill him in a week, and Adelia’s future would be secure. 

You were once a scared, weak girl. But that was the past. 

This was the present.

You saw Corvo. You remembered seeing his picture in multiple papers as a child, and he had shed his longer hair. It was now cut above his ear, but his strands were wild. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and a quick glance to his face revealed dark bags under his eyes. It was evident he hadn’t been sleeping. 

Emily ran up to him and he picked her up, hugging her. The Empress squealed as he lifted her, but when he went to spin her she protested. “I’m too old for that, Corvo!” she insisted, but the man did it anyways, a tender smile on his face as he placed her back down.

“You’re getting big,” he said to her, and Jesus, his voice was deep. Your face must have showed your surprise, cuz a soft cough came from Beth. Your attention turned to her for a moment now, and you saw her suppressing a smile. 

Great. 

But just as quickly as you saw her smile did it leave. A heated gaze on you made you spare a glance over to Natalia, who was clearly annoyed with Beth and you. Her face was puckered up, beady eyes narrow as she shot you a glare. 

You suppressed the urge to sneer at her. Why hadn’t you been hire to kill her, the Snake-Bitch?

“I am fourteen!” Emily reminded, and Corvo nodded, a wistful expression on his face as she returned to her seat. The Royal Protector took his seat too, and Beth approached the table, revealing the rest of the dishes. Fine meat steamed, surrounded by bread and other delicacies. But when Beth went to serve Corvo some food, he waved her off. Beth nodded and bowed before returning to her position. 

You’d heard that Corvo came from Karnaca when he was younger, a gift to Dunwall due to his talents in combat. You knew he was different than the other... _ royals.  _ He wasn’t even technically royal, but you’d assumed his years spent in the Tower had made him some snob.

He wasn’t. 

“I know,” Corvo said, and Emily smiled brightly into her food. You caught a wistful look from her supposed-father as he watched the Empress shovel food down her throat. He must’ve seen her through so much, while people like you only saw her at her strongest.

There was a sudden commotion from the kitchen, and you turned. Another maid was quietly whispering to Natalia, who rolled her eyes with a loud sigh. The snake then looked to you before gesturing for you to approach. You were sad when you did. “Some guard vomited on the staircase. Be a dear and clean it, will you?” she said, and you nodded with an understanding smile.

You were thankful to be able to leave the room your target was, but you wished you didn’t have to go clean up some guard’s innards. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed Beth smirking at you, and you shook your head, preparing yourself mentally. 

You didn’t catch the eyes of the Royal Protector as he watched you go.

 

After spending roughly an hour cleaning out the puke from the royal, red carpet, you spent the rest of your day doing various activities. Natalia had assigned you to spend each hour doing something else, which you were grateful for. She was still a snake, but even snakes were smart. 

One of the final activities for the day was dusting and simply cleaning up a study room. Emily had finished her studies for the day, and it was only normal for the maids to prepare it for tomorrow. 

This part of maidery wasn’t too difficult, and you didn’t mind it so much. It was nice to spend some time away from the other busy jobs, such as cooking, cleaning the kitchen, and so on. You were just left with yourself as you dusted some books.

At least…you thought you were alone. 

There was a sound of movement behind you, and you paused, straightening from dusting old books on a shelf. Had you imagined that noise? You usually were hyper-vigilant of your surroundings. A toss over your shoulder didn’t turn up anyone, however.

Instead of returning to your task at hand, however, you lay down your duster and approached the cabinet you’d heard the noise from. It wouldn’t hurt to check. If there was some intruder, other than yourself, in the Tower, you didn’t want them to sneak by. 

You expected some assassin in the cabinet, clothed in all black with a dagger in hand. Maybe it was someone sent to kill you, hired on by Moss or some other opponent. 

You didn’t expect to find Emily tucked away. 

“Empress Emily?” you asked, and the girl looked up, eyes guilty and a sheepish smile cocked. “What are you doing?” You couldn’t help but let out a soft, breathless laugh, and the girl pulled up her knees tighter.

“I’m hiding,” she said, pouting. She looked...embarrassed, almost expecting to be reprimanded. How often did this happen? 

“From…?” 

“Geralt,” she whispered, and you crouched down now, getting comfortable. Emily almost appeared surprised you hadn’t dragged her out, pulling her by the ear. This must’ve been common, then. 

“Who’s that? A butler, or…?”

“My teacher,” she sighed, and you understood. She was hiding from her studies. 

“I thought you were done with school for today?” 

“I’m never done with school,” she groaned, head falling on her knees. “I always have to do readings on boring subjects, and he always gives me so much homework!” You couldn’t see her face, but you could feel her exhaustion, her resentment. You’d seen this with Adelia, who occasionally hid away in bed after a particularly long day. She always got back up, and you knew Emily would too.

“My sister got tired too,” you said, voice low. Emily looked up at you, eyes wide and curious. The pout was still there, but it was less tight, less angry. “She’s around your age, studied the same stuff you are now.”

“Really? Is she smart?” Emily asked, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Very. Probably as smart as you,” you said, and the Empress beamed. “But she got stressed too, and she wasn’t an Empress. Whaddya say we get you some pastries, and then you can go study a little bit longer?” Your hand outstretched to her with the offer. 

Emily seemed to think for a moment, and in that face you couldn’t help but think back to Adelia. Her face had been round and pale, hair slightly longer than Emily’s at the time. You’d had to cut it after some brat put gum in it. Adelia hadn’t cared about its length, and you doubted Emily cared either. 

“Promise you won’t tell Corvo?” Emily asked, and despite her age at fourteen, you saw she was still a child. Outsider’s ass, Adelia was still a child at sixteen. The world expected Emily to be strong and all business, just as it expected your sister to be as well. 

But you didn’t. 

“I promise.”

Emily took your hand, and you knew you couldn’t kill Corvo Attano. 

 

The people in the kitchen were surprised to see you come in with Emily, hand-in-hand. For a moment, you saw fear in their eyes, but once you smiled they seemed to untense. Emily watched them with curiosity, and you wondered how often she really got to meet people in the Tower.

Once you got over to the pastry area, Emily hopped up on a counter. She kicked her legs casually, watching you with a slight interest. She seemed to be thinking, so you used her silence to ask, “Whaddya wanna eat?”

That really stumped the girl. It made you smile when you saw her purse her lips and furrowed her brow in thought. You remembered Adelia looking the same way when you treated her with some donuts. “Hmm...a strudel!” she declared, and despite how childish she sounded, you could see a fire in her eyes as she made the command. 

You only nodded with a smirk as you pulled out a strawberry strudel, freshly made and glazed. Emily grinned as she looked from the strudel to you, and you handed it to her. The girl went to town eating the delicacy, and you couldn’t believe this was the same girl that ran Dunwall. 

In the papers, she always seemed to strict and powerful. But here… she was different. She acted like any other fourteen year old - she was stubborn, but so caring and fun. And she had to lead an entire nation. 

Your face must’ve shown your thoughts because Emily interrupted them. “Who are you?” she asked, and you jerked back, face showing your surprise. The Empress noticed, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she just waited.

You didn’t take long to reply. “I’m Vivienne… Vivienne Marsh,” you said, a line you’d practiced multiple time. You never had anticipated introducing yourself to the Empress, however. You’d planned to lay low.

But you saw your sister in those big eyes Emily had, the way she hid herself from a world so eager to chew her up. And you’d let yourself get attached, even if it appeared minimal. It would be harder to kill the father of a girl you knew, a girl you talked with. 

It was hard enough to kill the Royal Protector, nonetheless the last piece of family a girl you were eating pastries with had. 

Then again...this was never supposed to be easy.

“Are you new? I saw you this morning, but not before,” Emily said, and you couldn’t help but grin. Smart girl. 

You nodded, leaning beside Emily. “Yes...today’s my first day,” you said, and she nodded, licking glaze off her fingers. You didn’t reprimand her for her “unladylike” activities. 

“Why are you nice to me? Do you want money? Or do you want to kill me?” she asked, and you froze.

Cold ice shot through your veins, briefly stilling your heart. Your expression must’ve shown your surprise because Emily smiled, but it wasn’t sweet. It was venomous, and you were harshly reminded this girl was the  _ Empress.  _ Her job was to look past facades and to see the real deal.

To her, you appeared just like another person using others to their advantage. 

Maybe you were using her to get to Corvo, but your intentions weren’t to kill her. Hell, you wouldn’t even get money from  _ her.  _

So you were honest. 

“You remind me of my sister,” you said, voice low. Emily cocked an eyebrow, and you met her gaze. “She’s away at school. I need the money to help her tuition, so I applied here. Our...family’s dead, so it’s just me and her.” A pause, and you crossed your arms. “You have the same smile as her, and she used to hide too. It took promises of donuts to get her out,” you said.

For a few moments, there was silence between you two. She sat there, crumbs on her lap and fingers sticky from the strudel. You stood there, arms crossed and hopelessness heavy in your chest. She’d lost her mother, and merely had her father. She ran a nation now. 

You lost your family, and all you had was your sister. You were the only one taking care of her. 

“Corvo would like you,” Emily finally said, and you jerked your gaze to her, eyes wide and confused. Emily was simply sitting there, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Mother, too.” 

There was nothing to be said, so you didn’t say anything. You just nodded, heart racing and blood pumping. What the hell were you doing? Your job was to get in here, patrol the area, and assassinate Corvo Attano. This...this was not something you should do. You shouldn’t be bonding with the Empress. That would make you a target, shine a light on you.

And where the light shined, eyes followed.

A loud bang interrupted the comfortable quiet, reverberating throughout the kitchen. Your eyes went to the source only to see Natalia and…

“Geralt,” Emily groaned, throwing her head back. You hummed, eyes narrowing at the man. His face was scrawny and beaky, a gelled updo trying to distract from his large forehead. His face was red from anger, and Natalia wasn’t too different. 

She wouldn’t be pleased...at all.

“Ah! Empress Emily!” Natalia cheered, that fake smile twisting her face. She approached with Geralt, who walked with his arms behind him. Hmm...a  _ noble.  _

You really hoped Adelia didn’t walk like that when you saw her. 

“Whatever are you doing?” Geralt asked, and Emily sighed, plopping down. She stood at Geralt’s chin, surely getting her parents height. 

“Taking a break,” she said, and the man shook his head. 

“There are no times for breaks. You have to read Chapter Two of Serkonan Architecture and Chapters Four and Five on Serkonan technology tonight,” Geralt hissed, and Emily threw a pointed look over her shoulder at you. No wonder why the girl was hiding. 

“Miss Marsh,” Natalia hissed, voice hushed. You looked over, and you thought she’d pop a blood vessel with her angry, intense expression. “This is extremely unacceptable. Not only did you ignore your duties, you intermingled with the  _ Empress of all peop-” _

“Natalia,” Emily peeped, and the woman looked over. The girl was standing up straight, mimicking the others fake smile. “It’s okay. I asked her,” she said, and Natalia huffed.

“Empress, it’s very kind of her to listen, but you know the rules on-”

“I do. And I will say this again… It’s okay.” There it was...that fire in her eyes. You remembered Jessamine, and the way she cared for her people. She didn’t cater to royals, to those who would pay big bucks for her support. She did what was right...for  _ everyone.  _

And Emily...Emily had that same spark in her eyes, the same fire from her mouth. 

Natalia understood, and bowed. “Of course, Empress.”

The girl nodded before looking back at you. “Will you be at breakfast tomorrow?” she asked, and you nodded. 

“I believe so.”

“Good.” Emily turned then, spotting her plate and crumbs from the strudel. Geralt tried to pull her away, assuring her you’d clean it but she ignored him. She grabbed the plate, and brushed off the crumbs on the plate. Without another word, she went to exit the room and left the plate in a sink. 

Natalia didn’t say anything, not even sparing a look your way. Instead, she let out a deep breath and walked out of the room. 

You were left behind, asking yourself what the hell you’d just done. With a sigh, you went to quickly wash down the spot Emily had sat on. And after… Well, you needed a drink, but settled on sleep instead. 

 

You dreamt of neverending waves, a whale song shaking your bones. You woke up wet from sweat, and couldn't forget black eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like what you read?  
> make sure to leave a COMMENT~ ! comments make my day, even if theyre just "i like this"!  
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> and most importantly...  
> HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT!!!   
> <3 <3 <3


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're not a part of the shadows anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! here's the next chapter!  
> i'd really like to know your thoughts on how the story's going far. i heard ya'll really like the side characters (that makes me happy!), but i was curious if you like the reader's character? she's intended to be an assassin, but one with morals. is she relatable? is she annoying? what would you like to see more of?  
> this story is intense, and it's slowly burning right now - but once we hit an upcoming point, it gets real interesting, i promise.  
> in the mean time, enjoy some character development.  
> so... enjoy this chapter!

You didn’t need Beth to wake you the following morning. You didn’t even need your alarm to stir you from sleep. Nightmares woke you before anyone else, and it forced you into a bath at four in the morning. Curled in on yourself, you almost felt like a child again, constantly seeing the faces of the dead when you closed your eyes. Sleep had been hard when you were younger, first starting out as an assassin for hire. It’d been difficult to cope with guilt. It seemed that trend had arisen again.

How _could_ you sleep when you were plotting to kill the Royal Protector, the probable father of the girl you’d bonded with the other day? You didn’t know Emily too well… In fact, all you really knew is that she disliked her studies and like strudels. But she had defended you. She had been _kind_ to you, treating you as a person and not some kid from the slums.

She’d learn to regret her kindness. If you killed Corvo, you’d surely make her a cold Empress. If she wasn’t overthrown, anyways.

You spent a while submerged the cooling bath water, simply trying to shake yourself from your dreams. They haunted you, a constant chill at the base of your back. You hadn’t struggled with nightmares for a while, learning to live with your decisions.

Why now?

There was an answer, but you struggled to accept that this job was affecting you so intensely.

As you dried yourself off, you found your gaze pulled to the mirror. You stood there for a moment, simply watching yourself. For a moment, you thought your eyes flickered black, but you turned your back to the mirror with a sharp breath.

Were you going crazy? Were you paying the price for your actions?

You wouldn’t let yourself mull on the matter...not when you were here. So you dressed yourself, and nearly fled the room. The hallways were mostly empty. They were vast and confusing, but in your panic, you focused and found yourself outside in the gardens.

You always had worked well under pressure. That was a necessity in your...line of work.

The air was cool on your flushed skin, and you let out a breath at its touch. Alone now, you let your frazzled emotions run free. What the hell were those dreams? You barely remembered them, but their impact was sticky and tight. It seemed to nip at your heels, hiding in your own shadow.

A stone bench was accompanying the garden fence, and you collapsed onto it, dropping your head in your hands. Despite the comfortable temperature, you were sweating, breathing heavily as you tried to remember your nightmare.

All you could remember was a constant song, one you’d heard on the night you lost almost everything. It had smelt of seawater and blood, a copper smell that one could never forget. And those eyes…

There’d been pitch black eyes.

You had to pull yourself together. You couldn’t let some nightmare affect you so badly, not when you and your sister’s life were at risk. This job would secure her future, and possibly get you to Karnaca.

_It’ll ruin millions more lives._

You let out a deep breath, and opened your eyes. Brilliant colors were beginning to seep in through the dark clouds, and they slowly revealed the sun to be peaking over the horizon. The Dunwall Tower had a beautiful view.

You watched the sun rise that morning, taking comfort in the knowledge that Adelia was surely watching it too.

 

You got to the kitchen early, surrounded only by the cooks who began to prepare their meals. They were surprised to see you for a moment before resuming their busy tasks. It was captivating to watch them cook, working with ingredients you’d never heard of nonetheless smelled. You never had been a great chef. Adelia would attest to that.

You watched one woman add unknown spices and greens, and with each new addition it only smelled better. What were they cooking?

“It’s hagfish,” the woman said, voice rumbling and low. You almost jumped, but you thankfully stopped yourself. The cook had noticed, however, and laughed. “Sounds disgusting, don’t it? Here…” She took the spoon out of the pot, raising it. As she faced you, you got a better view of her features. She had dark skin with rosy cheeks, dark hazel eyes that twinkled with mirth. At the sight of her eagerness, you couldn’t help but humor her and took a sip of whatever she was concocting.

It was delicious. Your eyes must’ve showed your wonder because the woman let out a hearty chuckle, shaking her head.

“I told you so,” she said, tossing a look from the side of her eyes. You couldn’t help but smile brightly too. “You season it right, it’s not complete shit.”

“Wish I had known,” you replied, and the woman snickered.

“You’re new, aint cha?” she asked, and you cast a look around, trying to see if there was anyone paying attention. Natalia hadn’t arrived yet, so the primary cause of concern wasn’t relevant. In fact, no maids had shown up. The other cooks were too busy to listen, so you leaned against the counter next to the woman.

“Yes,” you said, careful to not give off too many details.

“I could tell. You’re nervous, but I like you,” she said.

“Thank you.”

A soft moment of comfortable silence passed as you watched the stew simmer. But it was obvious there was an unspoken question. You simply waited. “You’re the maid that talked with the Empress, aren’t ya?”

You couldn’t help but blush, remembering the angry expression on Natalia’s face. Speaking with the Empress was a big no-no, so it was no surprise that there’d been gossip. That didn’t help with your embarrassment. “Yes… Not one of my wiser decisions,” you admitted, and the woman laughed, pausing to add some spice.

She stepped back on her foot, raising her spoon again to take a sip. A frown came on her face as she pursed her lips, grabbing some other ingredients to sprinkle them in. You didn’t say anything, instead just watching curiously. After mixing, the woman raised her spoon to you, and you took a sip.

Amazing taste exploded in your mouth, and you almost moaned loudly at how delicious it was. You thought it’d been good before! It was even better now!

“Whoa girl! You need some privacy?” the chef asked, and you jerked back to reality, face red. But she didn’t look mad, or even negative. There was an understanding look on her face as she hummed. “You’re from the slums, aren’t cha?” _Shit._ Was it that obvious? “No, it isn’t,” the woman said, clearly reading your thoughts. Clenching your jaw, you watched her face you, arms crossed. “I won’t tell anyone. I know how others look at us.”

“You’re…?” you trailed off, and your only confirmation was a noise from the cook’s throat.

“I was born in the mud, and I lived in it most of my life,” she began, turning to pull some dishes to put the dish in. “Every day I ate what was handed to me. My pa worked in a canning factory, barely making a coin a day. My ma was always pregnant, but the babies weren’t ever right. I had six sisters, but they never lived past one.

It was hard for her to move- whether it be from pregnancy or the blues. She always dreamed of more kids, but she only had me. Every day she slept...sometimes she even forgot to feed me. When she did remember, it was complete shite. But I never complained. Had no room to compare what I got, after all. But once my pa got injured, someone had to make more money. I got a job at a restaurant…dishwasher.” A snort came from her. “I watched those cooks make their food, and I learned. But they never believed a girl from the slums could make good food.” With the food in the dishes and the dishes on the tray, the woman looked back at you, hands on her hips. You saw her age now, and that she… 

She was missing a leg.

“Here I am.”

You nodded, understanding all too well. “Here you are.”

A hand was stuck out your way, and you looked from the arm to the person. “Janet Baird, head chef.” Holy shit...she was the head chef? You supposed you should feel honored to meet someone so high up, but instead of standing there dumbly, you shook her hand. The grip was firm, and you saw how strong she was.

You understood how strong she was.

“Vivienne Marsh,” you lied cooly, and Janet’s other hand clasped around your own. She held your hand tightly, just as your mother had. The memory shook you, and you felt your melancholy flutter in your stomach.

“I like you, Marsh. And whatever that _Natalia_ says...don’t be afraid to be kind. Never be afraid to care,” Janet whispered to you. Those hazel eyes were warm as she held your gaze, hands soft yet coarse with capability. She was a woman from your land, and here she was; living her dream.

And here you were, killing for your sister’s.

How had the two of you ended up here? You both were in the same place, but on two very different sides.

Funny.

But not really.

The door to the kitchen slammed open, a number of frantic footsteps foreshadowing the arrival of fellow maids. You leapt back, straightening your uniform as you watched the familiar girls flood in. There were two different girls today, but Beth arrived from behind them, eyes wide from a smile. She waved to you excitedly, and you calmly returned the gesture.

Right, back to being Vivienne Marsh.

The others went to their tasks of grabbing the dishes the chefs had prepared while Beth ran over to you, a sheepish look on her face as she reached out. Confused, you let her grab your hands and pull you to the side where the least people were. A mischievous glint played with her eyes, and you arched a brow in confusion.

“Beth? What’s-”

“You have a crush,” she hissed, and you opened your mouth to deny her words, but you paused. You were...utterly confused. Baffled, even.

What in the Void had she been using?

“Bethany, have you been drinking? Are you feeling ill?” You couldn’t help it. Your big sister came out in you as you pressed the back of your hand against her forehead, checking for a fever. The girl huffed and rolled her eyes though, pulling your arm down.

“Don’t be daft! ‘m talking about you and Corvo!”

That was loud. Anger and fear rushed through you as you clasped your hand over her mouth, looking around with wide eyes. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed Bethany and her big mouth. The girl looked confused, and a bit embarrassed at first, but then she seemed to calm down.

“Bethany, what are you going on about?” you asked now, pinching the bridge of your nose. Outsider, how much energy did this girl have? It was with a cold realization did you remember that Bethany really _was_ a girl. You were in your early thirties, when Beth really only was in her early twenties.

Christ, you were getting old.

She looked around before crossing her arms. Outsider, she looked like Adelia; careful but curious eyes, body taut with caution but observation… Everything seemed to remind you of her lately. “I saw the way you looked at him yesterday,” she whispered, and again, you arched a brow in confusion. You thought you’d looked at him with fear, with absolute disdain… It was hard to look at the man you’d kill, especially a good man. “You _like_ him.”

Ah...there was that term… _Like_. You remembered Adelia tossing that word around when talking about her schoolmates, and when she caught you looking at various people on the street. You had never had the people or time to attach the word to.

“I do not,” you said, voice breathless with incredulity. Beth wasn’t buying it, however, and she pursed her lips.

“You were blushing so hard, girlie. You almost looked like the Empresses’ jam on her toast!” she said, and you rolled your eyes, turning to start your duties. Beth followed you however, always positioning herself beside or behind you to gossip. “And speaking of Empress Emily, I heard you talked with her yesterday! Naughty, naughty, naught _yyy_ -”

The door slammed open, and your head jerked towards it, eyes wide and hand reaching for a nearby knife. The guards were here, weren’t they? They’d uncovered your plan and were here to take you, to execute you. Your plan was destroyed, and Adelia would never-

In strode Natalia, eyes heavily done with makeup and lips painted red. Her hand were behind her back as she smirked and look to everyone. Your hand dropped from the knife before she noticed, and you straightened, turning your attention towards her.

“Good morning, ladies,” she greeted, voice sickly sweet. The others bowed, while you barely just bent over. The woman noticed, but she didn’t say anything. She merely smiled at you. “Back to your duties!” she commanded, and you did as she asked. Looking at her was like looking at… _Corvo._

Except you _wanted_ to kill this bitch.

You couldn’t kill her, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of coming to her after you finished with Corvo. That man’s blood wasn’t deserving of your dagger, but hers was. With a huff, you turned and returned to your duties. You had already set the table, so you could help bring out the food.

Beth was a persistent shit, however, and she made it a point to bring up her argument whenever she could. “You couldn’t stop lookin at him!” she hissed. You’d turned and walked the other way. “You were blushing so hard I thought you were chokin!” You’d stepped on her foot. “He is pretty good lookin, aye?” You’d looked at her, eyes narrow without humor. But Beth shrugged with a ‘I’m not wrong’ expression on her face. And she wasn’t, but you weren’t going to say that.

“I’m a maid. Corvo got me this job. I’m not going to endanger it,” you said and Beth sighed loudly, visibly deflating.

“ _Fine…_ You’re right,” she agreed, and you thanked her, turning back to your task at hand. The Empress and the man you were speaking of should be arriving in a few moments, so you were just doing some final duties. It was when you took your position against the wall did Beth walk by, taking a spot not too far from you. She leaned in, and you closed your eyes, silently praying to the Outsider that she wouldn’t bring it up again- “He’s hot as hell though, ‘ight?”

You turned now, glowering at the girl. “For the last time, Beth, I do _not_ have a crush on Corvo _fucking_ Attano. I don’t know the man. I’ve never even talked to him! The most _intimate_ interaction we’ve ever had was him signing my employment papers! And despite how _handsome_ he is, he’s the _Royal Protector!_ ” you hissed, and Beth looked at you with wide eyes before looking behind you. Your heart dropped as you looked over your shoulder, seeing the doors wide open.

_Fuck._

And to tie it all together, who was standing there?

The Empress and Corvo.

_Double fuck._

If you weren’t an assassin, you’d probably be dying. But you were the one that made people die, so you instead frowned, cleared your throat and exited the room. You made sure not to blush, and not to shake. Years of practice made it easier than it seemed, but even you couldn’t convey your surprise when you heard the Empress say, “Vivienne!”

_Triple fuck._

You tried to not make assumptions, but you couldn’t help the loud fears that rushed through your head as you prepared yourself to face the Empress and the man you were supposed to kill. You’d embarrassed yourself in front of them, and while you knew Corvo’s opinion wouldn’t last much longer due to your mission, you needed it to last until you could kill him. So with a deep breath, you composed yourself and turned to look at the Empress. There was a bright smile on her face, and she looked much happier compared to when you caught her hiding. You didn’t risk a glance to her supposed father.

“I’d like to see you later today. Does mid afternoon work for you?” she asked, and you were confused for a moment. Was the Empress really _asking you_ if a time worked. You nodded, and the the girl grinned “Great! Come to the library then.”

Offering a quick bow, you turned on your heels and exited the room in a haze. What...what had just happened? Natalia looked as confused as you, and before she could say anything, you did. “I’ll go scrub some floors,” you said, and the woman closed her mouth, briefly looking surprised before nodding.

“Good idea.”

You exited the kitchen, completely unaware of the suggestive look Emily tossed to her father.

 

You tried not to think of the absolute clusterfuck that was breakfast as you worked. It wasn’t difficult to get lost in your work - it was simple and mundane after all. You’d done this work on the home while Adelia was at school, but never to the full extent of thousands of square miles.

However captivating scrubbing floors was, you had to keep constant notes mentally. You spent every minute of every hour recording the activities of guards. It wasn’t long before you had a name for every face, every time they rounded the corner, every time they took their break… This was why you’d insisted on infiltrating the palace. It would be much easier to sneak into Corvo’s quarters from the inside.

No one expected the maid, after all. Unless it was on the topic of affair, then everyone expected the maid..

The one thing you hadn’t anticipated to be a problem was the relations you’d form. You were silly to think that no one would notice you. The world outside this tower called you ‘Wildfire’ and the name seemed to go to your head.

On the streets, they said you came with no warning and burned everything down behind you. But no one ever saw you, ever caught you. You were lost among the smoke the moment it gathered.

But this tower was different. The people here were smart, and concentrated. You just hoped your position would help conceal you. But you knew better than to think others would purposefully uncover you. If anything, they would inadvertently unmask you.

The relations you formed did run a risk of having the others find your true purpose, but it was more dangerous for you emotionally. It was only a few days into the job and you were certain you couldn’t kill Corvo Attano. Not because it would be hard, but because of the chaos it would cause.

There were countless endings to this world if you succeeded in the assassination. You spent hours in bed counting as many as you could. Emily would be killed, be used just as she was in the past… But you knew of one ending that was inevitable if your mission was a success.

Emily would be left with no parents, no one she could truly trust. She would be an orphan.

She would end up like you; lost and left caring for an entire world. Your world had just been Adelia and it’d been overwhelming. But she was an Empress. Fuck, she was just a kid.

Could you really kill the last semblance of family she had? Could you really doom her to grief, to eternal sadness?

The prior day had convinced you that you couldn’t kill Corvo. And now you were expected to meet with the girl whose life you would destroy. Jobs in the past had been easy; kill awful people to make the world a better place.

But this was different. Corvo’s death would make the world so much worse.

You took your frustration and fear out on the floors you cleaned. Scrubbing was oddly therapeutic, and you wondered why you didn’t become a maid instead of an assassin. It was only when a guard kicked over your bucket did you remember.

“Whore,” he hissed, and you leapt up with a gasp as the dirty water spilled everywhere. The past hour you’d spent on this area was ruined in less than a minute because of this fucker. Anger swelled up in your chest as you looked to the guard who was descending down the stairs, a smug look on his face. You growled and took a step towards him, raising your arm.

A hand wrapped around your wrist, however, pulling you back. You stopped now, looking over with surprise at whoever had stopped you. It was no shock to see Beth, who had a stormy expression on her face. You hadn’t seen the girl look so upset, and that convinced you to drop your fist.

“Beth?” you asked, and the girl clenched her jaw, looking down at the guard who met up with some buddies. They were laughing, annoying noises bouncing off the walls as they clapped the one asshole on the back.

“Prick,” she hissed, eyes swirling with fury. You’d seen her annoyed, yes, but never so angry. You frowned, growing worried at her expression. It had to be associated with the asshole guard. Did he harass the maids often?

Did he harass Beth?

You didn’t say anything, instead watching the girl in front of you. Her rage was so bright, but so well controlled. It almost felt like a windmill - so powerful but so elegant. Beth was no different. She packed her anger in a tight container that acted as fuel, but it couldn’t help but leak.

And you were witnessing one of these leaks.

The rage must have only lasted a moment. It felt as though it stretched much longer. The drip of dirty water shook Beth out of her haze, and she looked down, composure reinstated. Mirroring her, you jerked back to attention as well, trying to not let Beth notice your stare. “Shit,” she sighed as she looked around. It was an absolute mess. The hallway was essentially soaked, and the water had even begun to seep into the fine, red carpet on the stairs. “We need somethin’ to mop it up,” Beth sighed, and you nodded/

“Do you know where towels are kept?” you asked, and Beth nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Aye… It’s ways away, though. By the time we get back, the carpet will be ruined and Natalia will rue the day.”

You frowned. “There’s a bathroom nearby, isn’t there?” you asked, and Beth gave you a horrified look.

“That’s for the nobles. We can’t go in there,” she said, and you crossed your arms.

“Natalia and a big chunk of our paycheck for the rug, or possibly pissing off some rich bitch?” you asked, and Beth rubbed the back of her head, looking down. The water was swirling threateningly.

The girl sighed. “Fuck it. Let’s go,” she said, turning on her heel. You followed her, careful with where you walked. Beth was moving fast, long legs quick and determined. You still caught up with her rather easily. It was obvious she was troubled, a constant furrow in her brow as the two of you walked. Had seeing the guard shaken her up that badly? Your looks must’ve not been as sneaky as you’d liked because the girl sighed, stopping. You paused as well, facing her as she put her hands on her hips, fixing you a cold stare. “I see the looks you’re givin me,” she said. “I’m not daft. You got somethin’ on your mind. So let’s hear it.”

Beth was expecting criticism, for you to reprimand her language earlier. She didn’t expect you to understand, and for a moment, you were hurt. She knew you disliked nobles, and the two of you had much in common. But it was chilling realization to remember that Beth didn’t know _you._ The girl thought you were some maid who’d worked with the Boyles, probably assuming you came from a decent upbringing.

She had no idea you had killed the rats that slept around you for dinner on more than one occasion. She had no idea you slept in the gutters for weeks, desperate for shelter no matter how scarce. She had no idea your body didn’t develop normally due to malnutrition.

She had no idea you were so poor and desperate you were killing Corvo Attano to pay for Adelia’s education and a new life.

You were Vivienne Marsh to her, a maid that worked under only nobles. No one knew you were (F/N) Walsh, daughter of a factory worker and a whore.

You spoke. “Does that guard harass you?” you asked, voice low. Beth huffed at your question, rolling her eyes.

“Does he… Of bloody course that prick harasses me! Whenever the bastard walks by me he dirties the floor! He drags mud only where I work, he spits on me when he walks by and he grabs my-” She paused, eyes wide and hands halting in their animated movements. Her gaze flit to you, fully realizing to what she just admitted. That rage was replaced with icy fear, numbing and painful all at the same time.

Vivienne Marsh may have been a maid. She may have worked under the Boyles for years, perfecting grace and eloquence and an understanding of how to be cold. She cut with precision.

But you weren’t her. No matter how many times you said the name you were supposed to wear, it never fit. It never rolled off your tongue quite like your own name.

So you cut with precision, but you were never _cold._ “Does he assault you?” you whispered, and Beth turned her back to you. There was a shudder to her frame, and you knew she was crying. You knew her fear. You knew her fate. So you stepped forward, reaching for her shoulder.

_“Don’t.”_

You stopped.

“Beth?”

“ _Don’t touch me.”_

You didn’t. Instead, you backed away. “Ok.”

This was another moment that felt like eons but in reality, was only a breath. Beth stood, hugging herself while she simply breathed. It sounded like such a normal task, but in that moment, it wasn’t for her. Her secret was out, and she expected to be hurt.

She expected to be hit.

You recognized she needed space, so you cleared your throat. “Is the bathroom down the hall?” you asked, and she nodded.

“Take a left an’ then a right. Second door on the left,” she murmured. With a soft ‘thank you’, you turned and went to fetch the towels.

By the time you returned, Beth was gone.

The carpet was ruined.

 

To say you were nervous for your meeting with the Empress was an understatement. You wondered why she wanted to see you, and the obvious questions frequently and quickly flit through your mind at any given moment. _Have they found who I am? Do they know my plans? Am I going to be arrested?_

But unlike others, you didn’t let your fear control you. Instead, _you_ controlled _it._

So as you approached the library, you took a moment to simply breathe. It was extremely unlikely they’d uncovered your plans. The only ones who knew of it were the ones who paid for the assassination. Allowing you to be caught would only endanger themselves. And you had covered your tracks well enough after years and years of practice.,

Assassination was your talent. And you were damn good at it.

So you swallowed your fear, let it cool in your chest, and entered the library.

Emily stood in the room with her back turned to you. She was reaching up a bookcase, trying to grab a book. You smiled at the sight as she stood on the tips of her toes, cursing under her breath. It was hard to not see your younger sister in her. It made your chest warm with nostalgia.

A few steps into the room, you noticed a shadow in the corner. You paused now, looking over only to see Corvo Attano himself. You’d be a fool if you said you were surprised to see him. Of course he would be here in a meeting with Emily. He was her Royal Protector, after all. But you were still surprised, and, for a quick moment, afraid.

But you weren’t just a maid. A sudden surge of confidence warmed the fear, and you looked over to him, meeting his gaze. You couldn’t tell from a distance, but his eyes were a warm amber. You knew better than to stare longer than necessary, and turned your gaze towards the Empress. She seemed to hear you, and turned. There was a small frown on her face, but once she saw you, a large smile broke out.

“Vivienne! Hello!” she said, approaching you. The Empress appeared to be in a better mood today, and you hoped that the interaction you shared yesterday had contributed to that. For a moment, you opened your mouth to respond before forgetting the manners you were expected to have. You quickly curtsied but Emily rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to do that,” she sighed, an annoyed look replacing her smile.

“I’m afraid I do,” you replied, and Emily hummed, crossing her arms behind her back. It was a practiced stance that look formal and powerful, no doubt a stance she often took when performing her duties.

“I suppose you’re right,” she mused, casting a distant look outside the windows. You didn’t say anything, being cautious in how you acted in front of both her and the Royal Protector. You knew he was supposed to be discreet, to hang in the shadows...but his presence made the hair on your neck stand. It felt as though you were being stalked, as though you were prey.

But you weren’t afraid. No...this was a thrill.

You felt a rush under his gaze. This was a game, and one you were acquanted with. You were used to being watched, to doing crimes under the close eye of the guards. It was a thrill to get away with a crime. And it was a thrill to exist where you shouldn’t...right under the nose of the most careful man.

His job was to stop you from getting in, and you had. That made your heart pound. It was only when you remembered your job was to _kill him_ did the thrill stop. You were still figuring out your decisive plan, but you secretly hoped there was an alternative to killing him. But that could all come later. You were here to speak with the Empress.

“You wanted to see me?” you asked, and Emily snapped back from her thoughts. She looked over to you with wide eyes, clearly confused for a moment.

“Ah… Right…” she trailed off. “Corvo, what did I want to talk about?” The girl looked over to said man, and he looked over to her.

“I believe you wished to discuss dinner plans,” he said, voice low and deep. It rumbled in his core, gruff and scratchy from age. He wasn’t much older than you, but you knew he’d seen a lot in his time. You all had.

The girl let out a loud “ah!” and faced you. She wasn’t much shorter than you, but you knew she was only going to grow taller. Jessamine had been tall. “I wanted to ask you if you’d like to start serving dinners as well,” Emily asked, and you merely stood, silent in confusion for a moment. She noticed, cocking a head to the side. “Is something wrong?”

You realized how rude your silence was and sputtered for a moment. Was she really asking for your approval to do a task? “Are you...asking me if I’d like to do a duty of mine?” you asked, and Emily nodded, sharing your confusion.

“Yes… Is something wrong?” she asked, and you shook your head.

“No, nothing’s wrong at all. I will admit I’m simply...surprised,” you said, and Emily waited for you to elaborate. Time to make up another story… “The Boyles...in fact, everyone I’ve worked for never asked me what I would like,” you explained. “I’m just… surprised.” _I’m so sorry I have to kill Corvo, your supposed father… I’m so sorry I’ll put you through even more sadness and pain. I’m so sorry I’m taking advantage of your kindness. I’m sorry… You don’t deserve this._

Emily looked mildly troubled. “It’s only polite,” she murmured, and you understood. It was polite… but Dunwall and those in power lacked manners. You and others were merely pawn for a much greater game, servants to do the menial tasks. But to Emily, her staff weren’t servants.

Her staff were people, and she recognized that. You remembered growing up and seeing renovations done around the city. New buildings were built, new programs started in an effort to help the common people. You remembered hearing Jessamine’s name and feeling hope for Dunwall. She cared for people.

Emily did too.

“Your mother would be proud,” you said, not even thinking before speaking. It just came out, and for a moment, you saw the shock on Emily’s face. The air turned cold, electric against your skin. You prepared to be dismissed, to be fired or punished but instead, that genuine smile graced Emily’s face. Her eyes turned towards you, and you saw her mother in that face.

For the first time since Jessamine’s death, you actually felt hope.

Then you remembered you would kill Corvo, and the empire would surely be spun into chaos. All hope would disappear, just as it did with the plague. All because of you…

You hoped your sudden paleness would go unnoticed.

“Thank you,” Emily said, simply looking at you for a moment. The two of you shared a comfortable moment of silence before she spoke. “Dinner is much like breakfast,” she explained, voice taking on a much more assertive tone. You recognized she was entering ‘Empress’ mode, and you entered your ‘maid’ mode. “So there’s no training required. However, I was curious if you would be interested in serving drinks during meetings?” she asked.

“Meetings?” you asked.

“Yes. You would serve refreshments during diplomatic meetings, sometimes with large numbers of people or just one,” Emily said. “We can train you, or can always start you on a smaller meeting to prepare you,” she offered, and you recognized the potential right away. Not only could you get a better grasp on Corvo’s schedule, you could also get access to knowledge of Dunwall’s politics.

You could understand who was the Kaldwin's enemies, and who would gain from the death of Corvo.

So you agreed, not giving it a second thought. You were no fool, and took opportunities when given. Emily seemed very pleased with your agreement. “I’ll speak to Natalia about this. Are you comfortable starting dinners tomorrow?” You nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

The conversation over, Corvo stepped in. “Empress, you have lessons at four,” he said, voice quiet yet authoritative. The girl looked over to him, a frown back on her face.

“Do I?” she asked, looking to a nearby clock. It was three thirty, causing her to groan aloud. You snickered. “Do I have to go?” she whispered, and Corvo didn’t say anything, the answer obvious. You swore you saw him smirk at her childish whining.

“Persistence is key,” you noted, and Emily hummed in agreement.

“I suppose. I will see you tomorrow then at both breakfast and dinner, Vivienne. Farewell,” Emily said, and you curtsied. That earned an eye roll from the girl before she disappeared.

You tried to ignore how Corvo lingered, tried to brush it off as you being nervous. But you felt his gaze, curious and skeptical. It was cocky of you to watch him leave, your gaze surely burning his back.

But it was all a part of the game, and little did your clients know, you played for both sides.

Beth appeared to have forgiven you by the time you returned to the quarters, flopping onto your bed. You were exhausted after scrubbing floors for the majority of the day. While you were nervous for your new duties with the Empress, you were looking forward to hopefully not having to scrub so much. She had said dinner was tomorrow. If it was anything like breakfast, it shouldn’t be too difficult.

Something hit your face, making you grunt. It was a wadded up piece of paper, and it was rather obvious who’d thrown it. With a loud sigh, you sat up to see Beth on her bed, staring right at you. There was a curious look in her eyes, and you recognized her expression to the one she wore in the morning. You groaned. “Yes, Beth?”

“So how was it?” she asked, voice sing-song. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. The Empress would like me to start serving dinners and meetings. I start tomorrow,” you said, and Beth humed, kicking her legs in the air. The girl appeared to be in thought, and when she went to open her mouth, you interrupted her. “No, I did not speak with Corvo. I have never spoken with the man, and I highly doubt I will after I acted like a _fool_ in front of him.”

Beth threw a hand up in the air. “You didn’ look like a fool! The Empress seemed very... _happy_ after you left,” Beth said.

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” you sighed, rubbing underneath your eyes. Outsider, you were tired. “I hate to cut our insightful conversation short, Beth, but I’m tired. I should get some rest.” You stood now, needing to use the restroom and wash your face. Beth continued talking, however.

“You start dinner tomorrow? I think that’s a meeting too,” she hummed, clearly in thought.

With a shrug, you said, “Well, I was told I’d help with meetings too.”

“Makes sense. It’s technically a business dinner with some business partner.”

That could be interesting. “Oh, who?”

“The Moss’s.”

You closed the door with a loud _bang!_ Breathing suddenly grew hard as you realized the situation.

You’d agreed to serve a dinner meeting where the Empress and Corvo would attend. And who would they be meeting with?

The Moss’s… Specifically, Julius Moss - the man who had hired you to kill Corvo Attano.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like what you read?  
> make sure to....  
> leave KUDOS! kudos help get this story recognized and noticed!  
> leave a COMMENT! tell me your thoughts? do you like the reader? do you not like her? let me know!  
> and most importantly...  
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT!
> 
> UPDATE:  
> Edited on 2/26/18 - Edited Janet's background.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You help serve dinner at a meeting with Emily and the Moss's. Things don't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this chapter was around 12,000 words and over 20 pages. Yeah, it's really long and I spent a solid month working on this chapter.  
> If there seems to be fluctuations in writing styles, it's because my writing style changes based on how much i'm reading. some days i would read a book and be influenced by it, while other days i wasn't. but, i did look over a good half of the chapter to just touch it up and it should be all set.  
> also a quick disclaimer; the dishonored lore is honestly pretty tough. i've written for various fandoms, but the dishonored lore can be a bit scattered. so if there's inconsistencies or if im wrong, i apologize. i try my absolute hardest to read through wikis and do research, but on certain stuff there isn't a lot of info.   
> HOWEVER,  
> there are major trigger warnings for this chapter. i wont spoil anything, but it is a very intense chapter. so please read the warnings, and read at your own discretion.  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> Rape Threats  
> Graphic violence  
> Weird, flirty old men  
> Weird and creepy men  
> Sexual content  
> \---  
> The should cover the trigger warnings. And without further ado... please enjoy the chapter!

_ Eyes… There were eyes on you. _

_ You couldn't see them, but you could feel them. They watched every move you made, every breath you took, and every thought that passed your mind. As you moved across an infinite path, you were fully aware of a presence. Their constant gaze should’ve frightened you, but it instead intrigued you. Why watch you? _

_ Why bring you to this place? _

_ Occasionally, there was movement. Sometimes a grand clock drifted by, softly but persistently ticking in your ear. Other times, a dead whale passed underneath you, singing a sad, lost song that made you taste seawater in your throat. _

_ But never did the presence appear. Never did you put a face or name to the one stalking you, haunting you. It drove you mad just as a fever did. Your breath grew harried and your skin slick with sweat, fingers twitching. _

_ Where were you going? Were you being lead to your slaughter, were you just another animal to the slaughter? _

_ When you tasted blood, you stopped. _

_ The world stopped with you, and the gaze finally moved. It focused in on you...on your hand. So you lifted your arm, stretching your fingers out in front of you. You let your fear appear now as the ground began to shake, rock splitting and cracking. The world was dying, disappearing as you let yourself feel. _

_ Fear...grief...sadness… _

_ And finally - rage. _

_ Blinding hot rage seared your veins. _

_ “I am not your toy,” you breathed. _

_ Sudden rocky spikes crossed in front of you, dangerously close. But you didn’t step back. No, you watched them form, watched a hand drifting up, watched black eyes meet yours and- _

_ And then… you were falling.  _

 

Something hit your cheek...something  _ hard.  _ Your ears rung as your flesh stung, and you blinked away both sleep and tears. Wild, curly red hair hit your nose, and you groaned, realizing it was Beth who woke you. 

“Bethany?” you mumbled, reaching up to foster your red cheek.

The girl huffed, an annoyed expression on her face. “Abou’ bloody time! It’s six!” 

Fuck. Shit. Fuck shit fuck.

You immediately sat up, almost knocking your fellow maid off the bed. The other maids were all ready and some were even leaving, but Beth thankfully didn’t appear to be going anywhere. In fact, she simply sat on the edge of her bed and watched you quickly get ready with an amused smile.

“Shit! Why didn’t you wake me earlier?!” you hissed, and Beth rolled her eyes.

“I tried. You didn’t budge. The other girls were convinced you were dead. Nancy even took your pulse,” she sighed, and you would be embarrassed, but you were too busy. You wouldn’t have time to wash your hair, so you quickly pinned it to the top of your head. It looked decent enough, so you quickly got dressed in your uniform. When you went to tie the ribbon around your neck, Beth stood with a sigh, doing it for you. “By tha way, I wanted to apologize.”

You raised a brow. “For?”

“Yesterday… I snapped at cha. You didn’ deserve that,” Beth sighed, and you didn’t say anything, instead filling the silence by simply watching her tie the ribbon. She seemed tired, although she was more troubled than anything. 

“Has...has that guard been harassing you?” you asked, and Beth let out a breath you hadn’t noticed she’d been holding. The girl stepped back, turning her back to you. Maybe she wasn’t ready to talk, but you needed to know. “Beth... he might be harassing other maids too,” you said and she shook her head.

“He-he does… He’s gone after Lindsey, Holt, Mina,” Beth whispered before crossing her arms, holding herself. What had he done to her? She’d come from the slums just as you did. She’d seen awful things. She’d been scarred by those awful things. What had this man done to hurt her this badly?

“I won’t make you talk...but just tell me his name,” you insisted, and she seemed to think it over for a moment before nodding. She turned and faced you, eyes red with unshed tears. 

“Mark,” she said, and you nodded in confirmation, not saying anything else. For a moment the two of you stood there, simply breathing, living. But it was with a sniffle did Beth smile, a fake expression that twisted her face. “Don’t wanna be late.”

“Natalia would rue the day,” you joked, following the other girl as she exited the room. As you closed the door behind you, you felt anger course through your veins. You only killed those who hurt, those who used their power to do damage and cause chaos.

And Mark fell under all those categories. 

 

Breakfast was simple and calm. Natalia had briefly stopped by to oversee how breakfast was coming along before leaving, claiming she had other duties to attend. Beth had whispered she had a date, while Janet remarked that there would be ‘Court’ duty in a few days. 

“Those fuckers love their pastries,” Janet had snorted, and you’d snorted with her as you cleaned a plate. You’d decided to watch Janet cook while Beth and the others helped at the table. Emily didn’t seem to mind - she’d smiled at you when she’d taken a seat. You always were completely awkward standing by the table. You never knew where to look. 

You decided being in the kitchen was a better idea. Not only were you out of the way, you actually had things to do. When you weren’t cleaning plates, Janet had you help clean up the cooking areas, run quick inventory, and occasionally gave you tips on how to cook. She was currently preparing jerky for the upcoming meeting. 

“Blood oxen make the best jerky,” Janet remarked. 

You raised a brow as you polished some cutlery. “Oh?” you asked, intrigued.

The chef hummed, laying some pieces of meat on a long plate. “We moved around before my pa got hurt. For some time, he worked on Slaughterhouse Row.” At the sight of your nose scrunching up, Janet laughed. “I know. It reeked. But I helped deliver some shipments of meat to a place that made jerky. The chef took pity on me and showed me how to make a mean piece of meat.” At that, Janet reached into a pocket and pulled out a finished piece of Oxen Jerky. Your mouth salivated almost immediately, but you tried to not show your desire. “Try it.” She winked at you, and you nearly ripped the piece out of her hands to try it. 

And she wasn’t lying. It was a  _ mean  _ piece of jerky, and you plotted how you could sneak some from the meetings.  The sight of your pleased expression made Janet chuckle as she continued assorting other pieces. “I didn’t know you lived over at the Row,” you remarked. 

“I’ve lived all over Gristol,” she hummed. “I spent some time in Whitecliff cooking for the Abbey, and a few years in Potterstead training under various chefs. The best cooks travel, gain an understanding of the dishes we serve, that we eat.” She only paused to gesture over to the pastries she’d prepared for the dinner you’d help serve that night. “I learned how to make those in Potterstead from a local baker. The only people she served lived in her town, and the recipe she taught me had been passed down for decades.”

You made a noise of acknowledgement. “And Dunwall?”

“I’ve always come back. I could go anywhere. I’ve gotten offers from the Duke’s people in Serkonos,” she said, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Serkonos? You lusted for escape there. If you completed your mission, you would flee there with whatever money you had left after paying for Adelia’s education. And maybe...just maybe you would find the grandparents you’d never met. “But I refused… Dunwall is home.” 

You didn’t speak because you didn’t understand. Janet had seen the world, had seen all it offered. She could go anywhere, but she instead came here, stayed here. What was so enthralling about Dunwall that it outshone the world itself?

“It is.” You could only agree. You had never known the world, never known where else home would be. So Dunwall was your home, but it was also your prison, your cell. You cast a look out to the dining room to see Emily laughing and smiling over some matter with Corvo. Something in you twisted. After this mission, you would be free from your jail and Emily… 

She could never escape.

Janet sighed loudly, taking you from your thoughts. “Take these and put them in the dehydrator. That will make this-” She gestured to the meat, “into that.” Another gesture, but this time to the finished jerky. You nodded, understanding. “After that, come back here and help me wash dishes. Natalia stated that you’re then to do your other duties before returning for dinner duty.” The woman pursed her lips, an inquisitive look on her face. “What’s your other duties?’

You shrugged as you gathered the plates of meat. “Maybe scrubbing the floors, folding laundry or, if I’m unlucky, cleaning toilet bowls.” Janet frowned, and you did too. “And after your dinner for the guard last night, I’ll be lucky if I’m not on latrine duty.”

The woman laughed loudly, clapping you on the back as you went over to the dehydrator. Janet was an ally you hadn’t predicted, but appreciated. If the head chef liked you, no one found it odd for you to do other duties or chat with her. And those in charge always had the best information, the best tips.

With your duty serving the Moss’ that night, you’d need as many tips you could get. But you found yourself coming back to the same questions you could only ask yourself.

_ How do I face those who hired me to kill? How do I stand between various lives I could change? How do I live with myself? _

You could find no answers.

 

The Outsider was on your side. You didn’t get latrine duty, thankfully. Instead, you were instructed to scrub floors once again. Your back was still sore from the previous day, but your body was adaptive. You’d felt worse pain the day after your first kill. It had coursed through your entire body, burning your muscles and weighing you down. What you felt as you bent over and scrubbed paled in comparison to that pang.

The other duties you had distracted from any soreness. The name Beth had given you rang in your head as you watched each guard pass, trying to pick out the face responsible for harassing you the other day. You hadn’t gotten the best look at him, but you remembered he was short, stout and had a long, beaky nose. It was a constant task to analyze each guard.

The other parts of your head were marking down each time someone patrolled your hallway, each time someone went to lunch, each time they made a move. But monitoring people’s activities was simple, a routine task. You’d done this with every other mission, every other person you’d been hired to kill. Sometimes you kept notes of your target’s activity while playing chess, drinking at a bar, once even flirting with a cute girl...

This wasn’t too different. You wanted to find this Mark, wanted to make him pay for whatever he’d done to Beth and the others. You had more passion for finding him than you did for killing Corvo. And focusing on this made the ever growing reality of what awaited you at dinner much easier to face. 

In all honesty, you had no idea how to prepare yourself for facing the people who hired you. You could barely face Corvo alone. How could you face him and the people who were inadvertently responsible for his death? You didn’t know. There was no manual for this, no book for Adelia to read for you, no past experience that you could look back on… 

All you could do was breathe, and that was getting increasingly difficult.

You were pulled from your thoughts as muddy boots stopped in front of you, standing just where you’d finished scrubbing. A frown pulled your face as you saw the mud seep and drip onto the white, marble floor. The hair on your neck stood as you became aware of the fact that there was no doubt who those dirty boots belonged to…

“Clean it up, whore,” Mark hissed, voice cracked and ugly. As though to add emphasis, he bounced his boot off the ground a few times to make more mud fall. “Get on your knees and do what you do best.”

You wanted to spit on those boots, to stand and smack the man. Fuck, you’d love to even stab the man in the gut. There was plenty reason to end his life when all he did was cause sadness and pain. The look in Beth’s eyes had given you enough reason to believe this ‘Mark’ was a vile man who you would not hesitate to kill. But you needed more information.

You needed to know the extent of the dirt he tracked, and not just on your floor.

So all you could do was look up and meet his gaze, memorize his face. It was thin, cheekbones too high and chin too pointy. Dark shadows painted his eyes, and his stout body seemed disproportionate compared to his head. But what stood out most was his furious expression as he met your gaze. A snarl twisted his features as he looked at your face now, and you understood why.

It was easy to harass those who had no face you could remember. It was easy to hurt with no understanding of the pain it caused firsthand. It was easy...and cowardly. 

“Don’t look at me whore,” he spat, and cold water suddenly splashed your face. The bastard had kicked out your bucket again! You hissed, wet hair now sticking to your face as you sat up to survey the damage. Curses hung at the tip of your tongue, and you wanted to throw them wildly at Mark. But he was gone, fleeing down the stairs.

“Coward,” you hissed, catching the smirk on his face as he disappeared from the scene. You tried to quickly run and grab towels, but the damage was done. Again, carpet was ruined and stained now matter how hard you pressed.

It was easy to run from your choices. It was easy to avoid the consequences.

But someone was left to clean the mess.

You understood that all too well. 

 

Thank the Outsider for Beth. While you understood she was a potential weakness or enemy, you were still thankful for her jokes and help. She woke you up on time, saved you breakfast, got you a spot in the bathroom in the morning and so on.

And after you returned to the quarters smelling awful with wet hair, she had immediately gone to work. You didn’t even have to ask her to help you. In all honesty, you weren’t planning on asking her to help. You planned to take a quick bath, and pray that you didn’t look a hot mess when you went to dinner duty.

But Beth had other plans. 

“Outsider’s deflated balls, what did he kick on ya?” Beth gagged as she drew a bath, and you sighed loudly.

“The water I was using to scrub the floors,” you told her, and she shuddered again at the smell you emitted.

“What had you washed with it? Some noble shite?” she asked, and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I can clean myself, Beth,” you said, but she shook her head. 

“Maybe you can, but do you  _ want  _ to be fired for smelling like shite?” She watched you for a moment, but you didn’t humor her. “No, you don’t. So get naked, and let me work my magic.”

You wanted to kick her out of the bathroom. You wanted to refuse her help, but you didn’t have anything to make you smell better, anything to make you  _ look  _ better. A simple bath wouldn’t wash away the stench. So you relented, undressing and stepping into the warm bath. 

Almost immediately, Beth pulled out a bottle from her bag and opened it. With a few drops into the bath, you immediately smelled citrus and lavender. It was strong, and smelled good. She then handed you two bottles of expensive hair product. “While you wash your hair, I’m gonna get ya a new uniform,” she said, and you didn’t argue. You felt vulnerable in the bath, naked and in front of her eyes. There were plenty of scars that most maids wouldn’t have, but Beth didn’t look. 

At least, you didn’t catch her looking. 

So you were thankful for the privacy as Beth left the bathroom. You almost felt bad for using her expensive shampoo and conditioner, but you knew this was necessary. You wanted to look good, and  _ smell  _ good at this meeting. Not only would you be performing duties in front of the Empress, you’d be performing them in front of your client as well. If they weren’t pleased and were certain you’d be caught, they’d cut off all ties.

They’d cut off all money.

So you tried not to think about how much Beth must’ve spent on the oils, the hair product, and eventually, the makeup she put on your face. “For your Royal Protector,” she cooed as she lined your eyes. You knew how to do makeup - looking good was a vital part of disguises and playing certain parts. But Beth insisted on helping. When you’d asked about her duties, she shrugged.

“Natalia is off fucking some merchant. No one really cares today.” Except you… You cared today. You cared  _ a lot _ today. 

So you let her do your makeup - let her pin your hair up in a tidy, beautiful bun. You let her make you look beautiful for the dinner meeting that was steadily creeping on your heels. And when the time came for you to report to the kitchen, you smelled great and didn’t look as though you’d had muddy water splashed all over you just hours before.

As you prepared to leave, Beth crossed her arms with a smirk. “Damn shame I didn’t become some noble bitch. I’d give those Boyles a run for their money,” she hummed, and you smiled at the comment.

“You already do, Beth,” you said, honest and sincere. She really was a beautiful girl, but not in the traditional senses so many believed in. Her beauty was wild, uncontained allure. Fierce red hair tumbled in curls, always finding a way out of pins and ties. Freckles painted every inch of her skin, and her nose was a bit too big, mouth a tad bit too thin, and chin a smidgen too sharp.

Maybe it was her personality that made her gorgeous. Maybe it was your wish to  _ be  _ her that clouded your judgement. But she was beautiful… Bethany was more beautiful than every noble and their daughter and wives.

So you cherished the soft smile that curled her lips, the way she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Despite her best efforts, that chunk of hair fell back down around her face. But she didn’t say anything. She acted loud, but that was just because she was afraid of herself.

You turned and exited the room. It was only when you turned to close the door did Beth yell, “Go get that Royal Protector!”

You smiled too.

 

Beth wouldn’t be working dinner duty. In fact, you didn’t know  _ who  _ was working dinner duty. This was a more ‘honorable’ dinner to be serving, so only the experienced maids would be on duty. Most of the girls you roomed with were newer, but you were pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face.

You faintly remembered her name from prior conversations with Beth. Your friend had taken the time to point out everyone in the quarters on your first day, but you weren’t the best with names. But under pressure, you could do amazing things, and, desperate for a grounding as the dinner came closer, you racked your brain for an idea. 

Nadette. Her name was Nadette. 

_ “Tyvian,” Beth had said. “Rumor has it that she was imprisoned in a prison camp, but the Empress herself spared her.” _

_ “What had she done?” you’d asked, and Beth had shrugged. _

_ “Killed a man? No one knows, but they say she’s as cold as their snow.” _

You knew better than to blindly follow rumor. Rumors oftentimes had leads, but their foundation was loose and cracked. So with a soft smile you approached Nadette, who was busy preparing a platter of sweets.

“You’re from my quarter, aren’t you?” you asked in way of greeting, simply trying to get the girl’s attention. She turned to look at you, and for a moment you were breathless. She was beautiful - with pale skin and vivid blue eyes. Blonde hair was pinned up in braid that hugged her head, looking as though it were a crown of gold. 

And icy… She was icy. Bitter and cold like the winters you’d lived in, but worse. Her eyes were those of a survivor, those of a person’s whose soul had been trampled. Looking at her, you understood where the rumors had come from. But what Beth had said about Nadette wasn’t entirely true.

Those pink lips of the girl’s twisted up in a small smile, forced and strained. To others it might have appeared normal, but you were trained to see past masks. And you looked right through her’s. 

“Vivienne Marsh, da?” she asked, accent thick. You nodded in response to her question, and she nodded her head politely. “It is nice to meet you. I expected to see you here.”

You raised a brow at the last part of what she said. “Oh?”

“Da… We’ve heard much of your...interactions with the Empress. It is no surprise to see you here at a prestigious dinner,” she said, formal and firm with her words. No doubt her formality was normal if she was serving here. You supposed you appeared experienced, but you knew Nadette actually  _ was  _ good at her job. And with being a good maid came a good tongue.

“And it’s no surprise to see you,” you replied, pasting on a smile of your own. “I’ve heard good things of you.”

That made her raise a brow now, but she didn’t speak. Her eyes darted around the room at the other maids and cooks. You didn’t look around, not wanting to appear suspicious. Pursing her lips, she turned and picked up the tray of sweets. “Assist me?” she asked, and you nodded, grabbing the other tray. The two of you walked the trays out to the large mahogany table, and you noted how different it felt compared to breakfast. 

Candles were lit against the walls, casting a moody glow over the room. The windows had curtains draped over them, a deep, rich red dyed into their cloth. Breakfast was always bright, albeit soft. But it hadn’t felt stifling like it did now as you lay the trays on the table. A quick glance to Nadette revealed a tight line of her lips as she pretended to make the table look nice.

“You’ve heard the rumors?” she asked, voice quiet but hard. You knew how devastating rumors could be - for both a reputation and a job. And Nadette didn’t appear as though she were a noble, or even from a rich family. You knew she worked hard as she always came into the quarters late, stirring you from your sleep in fear of guards finding you. She needed this job, so you leaned closer.

“Briefly. I’ve heard you’re an assassin, or a spy picked by the Lord Protector himself,” you hummed, and Nadette smiled genuinely now, a soft snort from her.

“If I were a spy, I’d have failed already,” she pointed out. You nodded, agreeing. 

“But I don’t believe rumors,” you said, and Nadette looked at you now. Her stormy blue eyes lifted from the table, from inspecting and picking apart tiny flaws in the presentation. No, she was just like you. She was just like the lot of you, so you raised your hands. “I’ve heard the guards saying I’m the Lord Protector’s whore, hence why I’m here. One girl even said I bathe in blood,” you said, and Nadette rolled her eyes.

“You’d think Tina was a child based on the stories she tells,” she huffed, and you nodded. “But… I appreciate you not listening. Not many people talk to me,” she admitted, and you frowned at that. A quick glance revealed a sad expression on her face, but only for a moment before she smiled. She was an experienced maid if she hid her sadness so well. 

“Not a lot talk to me either.” Nadette looked at you again. You returned the gaze. 

“A shame,” she whispered before turning to the kitchen. You remembered your duties and what was to come. You’d help serve during this dinner meeting… You’d help serve the man who hired you to kill Corvo Attano, another member attending this meeting. It would be a showdown of irony, of the Void laughing in your face.

But at least you had an ally, a potential friend facing this down with you. That made it easier...however easy this could be. It’d be awkward in the very least. 

So with a deep breath, you busied yourself with work. You did anything that could distract you from the time passing, from the great event that was approaching. You busied yourself with bringing out various trays of food, polishing both glasses and silverware, double and triple checking that the table was set and food was ready and-

Loud claps caught your attention, and you looked up from your duty to see Natalia, standing high with a smirk on her face. Your fellow maids paused too, turning to her. “Positions, ladies!” she crowed. Almost immediately, everyone went to their designated spot against the wall and you were no different. 

Thankfully, Nadette was a few feet beside you, and the two of you shared a quick glance and nod. And despite her rigid posture and cold aura, you noticed she didn’t seem as uptight as before. You hoped that was because of you. You needed allies.

_ You needed friends. _

The doors opened, and you jolted, stiff and straight. Just as it always was when you were around the life you’d take, your heart was in your throat. You could feel sweat on your palms, feel your lips purse, your skin flush and-

Emily entered the room with Corvo flanking her. Her hair was the same despite a small braid that looped around her head, and instead of wearing a traditional dress, she was dressed in fine pants and shirt. You smiled at the sight of her outfit. She really was no regular Empress. 

Corvo donned...well, what he often seemed to wear. You didn’t have any predisposition towards what a Royal Protector wore. And you didn’t necessarily like to spend a lot of time looking at him, nonetheless noting what he seemed to wear. But he looked good.

Until you had to kill him, anyways. 

So you didn’t really pay too much attention to Corvo as he shadowed Emily, who took a seat at the head of the table. She didn’t seem to care too much for posture at first until Corvo lay a hand on her shoulder, leaning in to whisper in her ear. At what he said, she smiled and whispered back. Corvo gave what appeared to be a smile as she turned her attention to the room and he took a seat. 

The Empress looked over the maids and the general scene before spotting you. At the sight of your presence, her face brightened and she raised a hand, waving politely to you. You nodded in acknowledgement of her presence, and, risking a glance to Natalia, made a small, quick wave back. Emily beamed, a bright look that reminded you all too much of Adelia.

Outsider’s cock, you missed Adelia. 

But you didn’t have the time to dwell on either Emily or your thoughts as there was the sound of approaching footsteps. Those steps were thunderous sounds that echoed in your ear, and your breath caught in your throat as you straightened, training your eyes dead ahead. There was quiet murmuring as people approached, and you knew who they were.

Your eyes wide - you held your breath as those voices and people grew closer. It was only when they were just outside the door did they fall silent, surely composing themselves before entering. Emily - bless her - adjusted her posture and watched the door with a steel gaze. 

The door opened, and you didn’t look. 

You looked at the wall, taking in the small details traced into the wallpaper. Little flowers lined the soft color, barely noticeable unless you truly looked. You were unsure if anyone else had noticed the detail. Surely the others looked at the guests of dinners, but you could not.

You could not look because the men you would serve were paying you to kill Corvo Attano, an innocent among this conspiracy. But you had to… You  _ had  _ to look at these men because you had to serve them.

The thought made your stomach churn, so once everyone had taken their seat and cleared their throats, you looked. 

Over your life, you’d learned to hide behind masks. For contracts, you adopted other personalities to help you fulfill the wishes of your clients. You had once posed as a delivery woman to kill a bartender who served his guests sewage. You had become a gang member, a helpless students, a whore, a flirt…

But now you had to be a maid, and one that had no idea of the situation at hand. You had to act as though there was no knowledge you’d murder Corvo Attano for these men. You had to act as though you had never seen Julius before, that you didn’t know their intentions. It was little comfort that these men had to act as though they had never seen you either. They were wretched people, after all. They hardly felt any guilt for hiring you to kill a man.

But you were wretched for agreeing, right?

Julius would be handsome if it weren’t the air he held himself with, or the fact he was in on whatever conspiracy this was. He had high cheekbones and a pronounced chin, with narrow brown eyes and a sly smirk. His brown hair was gelled back into a sophisticated style, one that you recognized on many nobles. 

But you knew that he was rich. You knew why he was here. And you knew not to fall into the lie that was his good looks. You may have not attended school for long, but you weren’t dumb. You knew a conspiracy a mile away, and these men reeked of it. Julius was not excluded from this. 

There were two other men, but they were much older...and fatter. A quick glance revealed they were surely the head of this business, and of this contract. Julius was sent to you to either prove himself, or keep the conspiracy on the down low. They surely hadn’t expected you either, because Julius was sending lazy looks around the room to masquerade his gaze on you. But you didn’t respond.

You  _ couldn’t  _ respond.

So you didn’t move, and you didn’t dare look. All you could do was breathe. And when one of the older men opened his mouth, you listened.

“Empress Emily,” the old man crooned, voice gruff and harsh from cigars. You could practically hear his lungs giving out as he spoke. “It is an honor to see and dine with you.”

_ Liar.  _ This wasn’t an honor - it was an opportunity to gain knowledge and surely reputation.

But why dine with her? You were confused on the matter. By dining with her, wouldn’t it make them take the spotlight? Maybe they were here to make friends with Emily so once Corvo died she would trust them. By trusting them, they could whisk her away or kill her too.

The thought made you sick. Would they really kill a young girl to take power?

A glance at Julius answered your question.

Emily offered a tight lipped smile that she discreetly veiled with beaming innocence. But you’d gotten to know her these past few days, and this wasn’t a genuine smile. You’d seen her actual smile when you gave her pastries. “Edward,” she began, voice sweet. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. How are you faring?” 

The old man, Edward, sat up straighter with a grumble. “Well, well…” he trailed off before gesturing to Julius. “Now that Julius here is taking over soon, we’ve been busy preparing.”

Emily raised a brow towards Julius, the corner of her mouth twisting up in an intuitive smile. “Oh?” Smart girl… Only speak about others, not yourself. The first priority should be safety, and then knowledge.

Julius puffed up like a bird trying to attract a mate, proud of himself for taking control of a company he was surely birthed to have. He adjusted his vest with a smirk, eyes glimmering with arrogance. “Ah yes… In a month, my father will retire and I will be the new head of the Moss Whaling Company.”

Whaling… That’s why you recognized their name. You remembered passing their ships at the harbor, wood bloody and old. You remembered seeing dead whales hanging off the sides, eyes unseeing and blank. The first time you’d seen them was when you were three, and you’d cried at the horror. But growing up desensitized you.

You still knew it was wrong. You knew their business would ruin the world - through the killing of whales or the assassination of Corvo. Did they hire you to take control of the crown so they could expand their reach, or so they could make more money? Their concern was surely not in the interest of the  _ public _ .

If Emily had an opinion on their choice of business, she didn’t show it. Instead, her smile grew as she lay back in her chair, gesturing to the long table full of food. “Well, allow us to celebrate then,” she said, and no one seemed to argue. Everyone tucked a napkin into the neck of their shirts and set to eating. The older men loaded their plates while Julius only took as much as he needed. They seemed to especially enjoy eating the whale meat offered, but Emily didn’t take even a scrap of the whale. Instead, she took some roasted ox. 

As they began to eat, Nadette caught your eye. She threw a nod to the older men who sat in front of you two, and you understood. It was your duty to fill their glasses, so you both approached and leaned over.

You tried to keep yourself calm as you spoke in a soft whisper to the older man, apparently Julius’s father. “What drink would you like tonight, sir?” You commended yourself for how composed you sounded. The man didn’t even bat an eye as he replied that he’d enjoy some whiskey, and you nodded, turning to grab a bottle from the kitchen. 

But right before you turned, Julius raised a hand. You looked over to him, confused for a moment as he lazily smirked, curling his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion.

Your stomach sank, a cold wave pooling in your gut. Whatever comfort you’d felt drained with the color in your face, but you had to listen. You had to do what he said.

And that pissed you off.

So, clenching your jaw, you approached Julius. Eyes were glued to your body as you crossed the room. The old men were watching, Emily was watching and Corvo… Corvo was not moving his gaze from you. Did he know? Did he know that you knew Julius? Did he know you were here to kill him?

Julius tossed you a sly smirk as he looked from your breasts to your face. Rage flared in your chest, but you did nothing other than bite your tongue. You couldn’t slap him. You couldn’t hit him.

All you could do was lean down, and feel his hot breath on your ear.

“Hello dearie… Get me a Royal Fuck, will you?” he whispered, and you took a sharp breath at the request. What...what was that? You’d spent your fair share of time in bars, but had never heard of such a thing. Was it a drink? Was it food? You tried to not let your confusion show, but the smirk on Julius’s face grew as the pause grew. The bastard did this to fluster you...to embarass you. 

He liked to watch you squirm.

“A cocktail man, aye?” a deep, husky voice said and your eyes shot to the owner. It was Corvo. The man who spoke was Corvo. And for a moment, you felt silly. Of course Corvo would talk. He talked with Emily every morning, so why had his voice surprised you? Why had his voice made your stomach twist? 

Was it because you were to kill him? Was it because you were embarrassed, flustered due to all the eyes on you? Or was it because a man of few words just used his words for  _ you _ ?

Maybe it was all of those things. But you didn’t dwell. With your question answered, you spun on your heel and exited the dining room.

The kitchen was hotter than the dining room due to all the cooking, but it felt substantially cooler as you placed your hands on the countertop. You closed your eyes as you let a deep breath out, trying to calm yourself. You could do this.

You  _ had  _ to do this.

A hand gently lay itself on your back, and you jerked, eyes flashing open in fear. You went to grab the hand, but once you saw Janet you stopped. The woman looked surprised, as anyone would be, but not angry at your reaction. If anything, the cook looked concerned.

“Sorry,” you huffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m just jumpy.”

Janet hummed, crossing her arms as she watched you. Her gaze wasn’t like the ones you’d felt in the dining room. Her eyes had no ill intentions, no ulterior motives other than understanding you. “Serving the Moss’s will do that to ya,” she said, and you closed your eyes again, focusing on your breathing.

You’d done this before. You’d blended in as an employee in a few assassinations. You’d gambled, you’d drank, you’d fought, you’d  _ fucked  _ to fulfill a client’s wish. But you had never had your client near you as the subject of your assassination was only  _ feet  _ away.

You’d never had to play a role in front of your client. And the fact you had to play it in front of both a disgusting client and your victim?

It terrified you.

“They scare you,” Janet said, and you looked at her with a furrow in your brow. She was smart. You didn’t question that. She must’ve seen whatever was underneath your face because she rolled her eyes. “They scare us all, Viv,” she sighed before pausing. “What’d he want?”

You shook your head as you dragged your hand over your face. You were so tired. “A Royal Fuck,” you told her, and the chef snorted.

“Of course,” she sighed before grabbing some shakers and alcohol. “Last time, Julius picked on Ruth. Asked her for a ‘Creamy Pussy’.” Your face puckered.

“Of course he did.”

Thankfully, Janet didn’t speak much after that. You think she saw how pale your face was, how you stared off into space, how you could barely move… And you were grateful for the silence. You needed to think, to calm down. 

You were jerked out your thoughts by Janet sliding a tray and two drinks your way. One was a fizzy red drink while the other was whiskey. “Thank you,” you sighed, looking to Janet. The woman simply nodded before clapping a hand on your back.

“Don’t mention it. Now get out there. You got this,” she assured you. And you knew you could do this. You  _ had  _ to do this - for Adelia. So you hoisted the tray up on your hand and entered the dining room once again.

The men and Emily looked as though they’d been talking, yet they all paused as you entered the room. Your knees felt weak and shaky as Julius and his father turned to you, sleazy smiles curling their lips. 

“Ahh… That’s a girl,” Julius’s father heaved, and you quickly but elegantly placed the glass on the table. His meaty hands wrapped around the glass as he shakily raised the glass to take a sip. Foam frothed on his lip, and you turned to move to Julius. You stopped as that hand rest itself on the bottom of your back, dangerously low. You stiffened. “Thank you dear.”

A low chuckle came from the other men, and you looked around the room as you left Edward’s side. Julius was watching you with hungry eyes, surely waiting for his drink. The other old man was leaning over to whisper to Edward, eyes taking all of you in. 

Outsider, you wanted to give those bastards a Royal Fuck on the face.

Thankfully, Emily began to speak as you approached Julius, effectively distracting them. “So what do you plan to do once you’re head, Julius?” Emily asked, turning a thin smile towards the man. It was a forced expression, one you’d worn plent. 

You placed his glass on the table, and his fingers grazed yours as he reached for his drink. You knew he was watching you out of the corner of his eyes as his fingers trailed over your knuckles, warm and deadly. So, as you pulled your hand away, you made sure to drag your nails across his skin.

The only indication that it hurt was the narrowing of Julius’s eyes and the loss of his smile. Now you were smiling as you turned and walked away, taking your position against the wall beside Nadette.

The girl’s face was composed, and anyone who wasn’t an assassin wouldn’t notice the slight curl in her lips. She was smirking at your subtle retaliation against Julius, and you wondered how many women he harassed. Janet had mentioned Ruth being targeted… Had Nadette been hounded too?

A look she sent your way answered your question; yes. Yes, Nadette had been harassed.

If Nadette had been targeted by Julius, how many other women did he go after? How many maids did he use his power over? He could easily get them fired with just a single command. And while you knew Emily and Corvo saw through his facade, you knew Natalia was too much of a coward to not listen. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if Natalia was in Julius’s pocket.

“We plan to expand business across Gristol,” Julius explained, and Emily arched a brow. Sensing her curiosity, Julius grinned. “That is partially why we’ve come today, Empress. We ask for tax reductions for the next few years to help improve our business. In return, you have our undying support.”

_ Liar.  _ Outsider, you wished you’d poisoned his drink. He was lying through his teeth, looking right into the eyes of a girl he’d ruin. He was asking for her kindness, for her heart when he no other intentions than destroying it. But you could do nothing. You could say nothing because you needed his money.

So you simply watched, digging your nails into the palms of your hands.

Emily simply took a bite of her food, chewing her food slowly as she thought. The attention of others rest on her, however, and you found pleasure in how he made them wait. She was reasserting control, something that made Julius’s nostrils flare. “Do I not have your undying support already?” Emily asked, voice subtly dangerous. Her gaze finally rose from her plate, locking eyes with the man in question.

Julius shifted, sitting up straighter as he intertwined his fingers together. The older men weren’t chuckling now, looking to and from the Empress with arched, bushy brows. And in that moment, you recognized this dinner for what it was.

It was a business meeting… Shit. This might even be a last chance for Emily. That was why these men took such pleasure, why they were laughing and drinking as though they were at a bar. They knew this was a sadistic act - a passive aggressive attack. They were proposing an act that would prevent their eventual coup, but only they knew.

Emily had no idea of their corruption, and neither did her Royal Protector.

They would only know once you slid a knife across Corvo’s neck.

You suddenly felt sick.

“Of course you have our support, Empress,” Julius hummed, lifting his eyes to you. For a moment, he seemed to think and you tried to maintain your calm. You tried to not blink, to keep control of your breathing, to not so much as  _ twitch… _ Julius looked over to Emily. “If you assisted us with our efforts to expand business, it surely would buy the loyalty of many others in the Court.” 

A statement with two meanings - one only you and Julius’s family caught. And it didn’t help with the nausea flipping your stomach. This corruption didn’t just stew in the Moss family. It went deeper. 

There were more behind this scheme to overthrow Emily. And you almost wanted to beg. You almost wanted to beg Emily to accept, to cut this asshole some money in taxes, to save her life. But you couldn’t.

All you could do was stand there and hear Emily say, “No.”

Corvo raised his hand, a sudden movement that made you jolt out of your stupor. Your eyes flicked from a jaw-clenched Julius to the calm, collected Royal Protector. You met his raw gaze. He was looking at you. Why you?

Oh right. You were a maid. You were Vivienne Marsh, a well behaved woman who did her job. You helped men like Julius on a daily basis, got on your knees to scrub floors, and bent down for everyone but yourself. And you were here to kill Corvo Attano, to help overthrow the Empire for greedy scrum like the Moss’s. 

So you approached Corvo, head bowed in a submissive manner. You hoped you appeared like a scared doe. You hoped the paleness in your skin only reflected surprise, not nausea. 

You couldn’t let them know you were an assassin, although at the moment you didn’t feel like one. At the moment, you felt like you were a teenager again, pulling yourself onto wet sand while gasping for air. You felt like you had just escaped a sinking ship again, as though the world under your feet had disappeared.

_ Eyes…  _

Stopping behind Corvo, you took a deep breath through your nostrils. 

_ You felt eyes on you.  _

You bent over, leaning down so the man could ask for whatever he needed.

_ They watched every move you made… _

“Leave.” 

_ Every breath you took… _

“Leave now.”

_ Every thought that crossed your mind. _

You straightened, nodding as you turned to exit the room. Relief flooded your veins where it could, but there was still fear. There was absolute cold, shocking fear… But now there was relief as you felt those eyes disappear behind a wall, as Janet reached for you. Her mouth was open, but all you heard was a chair scraping. 

Janet stopped, eyes flicking behind you. Her lips thinned, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed as she stepped away. Footsteps approached you from behind, and you didn’t need to look.

You smelled the cologne, the alcohol and the anger. You knew what was about to happen, and there was no way to prevent it. There was no running, no hiding, and no killing. Here...you were Vivienne Marsh, a helpless maid and good girl.

“Allow me to see you out, Miss Marsh,” Julius offered. There was no refusing. Julius didn’t understand the word ‘no’. So you allowed him to walk you to the door, to open it, to close it…

And out in that hallway, you were (Y/N) Walsh. 

You spun around just as Julius raised his hand to hit you. His eyes flared dangerously as you sneered, “A Royal Fuck? Undying support? What the  _ fuck-” _

Julius’s other hand came down your way, and before you could move, his fingers wrapped themselves in your hair. You winced, but before you could yell, the man covered your lips with his hand. His mouth was turned down into a snarl as he looked around. “Keep your whore mouth shut, you dumb  _ cunt.  _ You almost gave us away in there with your ugly  _ face, _ ” he hissed, and you went to bite him when he tugged on your hair. A cry rumbled in your chest. “You make a sound I will murder your sister. You give us away I will  _ snap her neck. _ ”

Ice cold shock shot through your veins at his words, and you stiffened. Any fight drained out of you at the threat, and a dirty smirk came on Julius’s face. “What? You didn’t think we’d look that far, have sources so deep?”

You were a fool… An absolute fucking fool. Of course he would have leverage over you, of course he would hold you to this. If this was any other situation, you would be impressed. If Emily wasn’t so kind and if Corvo wasn’t so good, you wouldn’t had to worry about this.

You would be able to kill them if they were like every other noble. And you wouldn’t be out in this hallway, surely about to be killed for showing fear and second thoughts. 

“Let’s take a walk, shall we?” Julius suggested, and you couldn’t object. You could only walk down the hallway with him, his fingers removing themselves from your hair only to rest on your waist. His nails dug into your skin as you moved, a subtle reminder that he controlled you.

Outsider, you wanted to smack this bastard. You wanted to run your dagger across his ribs, count each one with the tip. You wanted to cut off his beard, his eyebrows, and then cut off his tongue. But you couldn’t.

You had never been in control. You had always been controlled by bills, by gangs, by life… Those few moments where you chose who to kill was all the control you had. 

And now you’d let that be taken too. 

Afraid, you let Julius drag you into a secluded hallway. You let him curse at you, let him throw you against the wall. He smacked you across the face, open palm as pain flared. There was no time to recover as he used the back of his hand to slap you on the other cheek. 

_ Fear.  _

There was never any time to breathe as he kicked you in the head. Black spots flared in your vision as you fell onto your side, groaning. Stars were flashing, and you heard waves. Were you drowning? It felt as though you were unable to breathe. 

“Make a noise and I’ll kill her.”

You stopped groaning. You didn’t even whimper as his foot collided with your ribs, a nasty crack following the movement. You couldn’t make a noise. You knew he would hurt Adelia.

“I will kill her.”

Another kick.

“Or would you rather have me tell Corvo your real name?”

Another crack.

“I bet the idiot would trust me more. I bet he’d let me poison his drink, and then Emily’s.”

You looked up at the mention of Emily, a snarl in your throat. But there was no chance for you to spit out an empty threat as Julius’s fingers twisted in your hair again, pulling you up. His face was puffed up and red, bushy eyebrows twisting his skin. His hair was dishevelled, his body shaking as he spit.  

“As they choked they’d realize that you let them died. They’d realize you knew this would happen, and you  _ let  _ it happen. Poor Emily would cry and beg, and Corvo would die realizing he let another Empress be assassinated right underneath him.” 

Julius raised his hand, punching you in the face. A sickening crack came from your nose, and you tasted blood. It rushed down your face and into your mouth, a copper taste staining your tongue. Again, he pulled up your hair so you looked at him as he spoke. 

“And after that, I’d poison your bitch sister. But not with something sweet. That bitch wouldn’t just fall asleep. I’d use  _ rat  _ poison like the vermin she is. I’d watch her foam at the mouth, beg for her  _ sister  _ as she seized and twitched… And after she died? I’d fuck her body and throw it in the trash. Just...like... _ you. _ ”

_ Rage.  _

You spit blood in Julius’s face, watching him recoil with a hiss. “I am  _ not  _ your toy!” you hissed as Julius staggered back, and you realized with glee the blood had gone in his eye. Good. You hoped that fucker got an infection. Breathless laughter wheezed from your throat as Julius licked his lips, fist clenching and unclenching. There was deadly anger in his face as he breathed heavily, eyes flicking from your face, to your breasts, and then- You tried to move, to stand as you realized what Julius was planning. But your ribs protested, shrieking agony tearing itself through your body as white sparks flashed in your gaze. 

“Yes you are, ya daft cunt,” Julius laughed, wiping his mouth with his wrist. He stood up straight now, chuckling without mirth. “You are my toy, (Y/N), and I will use you until you bloody and broken.” He stalked towards you, and you looked around for anything to fight him with. But there was nothing… There was no one. The horror of realizing you’d let him drag you to an empty place dawned on you. 

And again, you felt fear. But more than anything, you felt anger.

At him. At yourself. At this world.

“Kill Corvo in two weeks. If he’s not dead, I will make you wish you’d drowned all those years ago.” 

But then you felt nothing as Julius slammed his heel into your left hand, and then your head.

_ You were walking that same path again, watching the infinite road stretch on past the horizon. A soft, hazy blue breathed in the air, almost suffocating you. But the world seemed to pull away at the touch of your skin, at the exhale of your breath. It was fearful of you.  _

_ No. It wasn’t afraid. This world was curious. _

_ Those eyes that followed you were curious.  _

_ Something- No, someone was here. But as you cast a glance around you, you could see no one. You could only the see the path before you, and the air that seemed to follow you.  _

_ Where were those eyes? Where was- _

_ You stopped. You stopped walking that path, stopped taking the same, repetitive steps. You broke the pattern, a rhythm you’d fallen into.  _

_ You turned.  _

_ The world behind you was no path. There was no resemblance to the place you’d been walking across for however long you’d lived. No. Now there were jagged, floating lands covered by dust and stone. The world was unleveled, sharp with all edges and bitter cold. This land seemed to stretch on forever, and you wondered where it all led.  _

_ A harsh wind picked up, playing with your hair as you clenched your fists. What was this place? There were no laws, no rules that it had to follow. Would it collapse underneath you? Would you plunge straight into one of those sharp edges? _

_ The questions plagued your mind, but you had to find answers. You had to find those eyes, find a way out…  So you took a step forward. A soft crunch sounded from under your feet, but the world didn’t collapse. Relieved, you continued walking towards the edge. _

_ As you approached the end, you stopped. The wind had died. _

_ “Vivienne Marsh, a name forged from pen and paper destined only for shadows and murmurs,” a voice said from behind you, and you spun, heart in your throat as you reached for a dagger. But your weapon was not holstered to your side. And there was no backup dagger in your boot. The realization chilled your blood. All you could do was look at a man who appeared from nowhere - tall and pale with black eyes. Squinting, you came to the realization you recognized those black eyes. Yes, that pale skin and black hair was familiar. _

_ It was the Outsider… _

_ “But even the shadows know that name is fake. Even the shadows know your true name,” he hummed, slowly pacing in front of you. The world seemed to bend around him, wisps of ash floating off his body as he moved. And you were supposed to be afraid. You were supposed to quote the scripture, run, wake up…  _

_ Instead you listened.  _

_ “But the shadows are your allies, are they not? They have concealed you from the persistent eyes of the Watch, keeping you alive and your sister fed. And now she is hundreds of miles away, reading books you could never afford no matter how many people you killed,” the Outsider mused, still pacing and not looking at you. Instead, he seemed to be looking off into the world around the two of you, thinking, pondering… Did those black eyes see the empty world? Or did he see something more, something veiled by the solitude and loneliness? You’d heard rumors he could see the future, that he controlled everyone’s fate…  _

_ And then he looked at you. Your heart raced as those bottomless pits of eyes drank in your appearance. Did he see how jarred you were? Did he see the fear that festered in your chest? “I have seen you - every path you could take. I’ve seen you starve, seen you fall asleep for the last time in your sister’s arms. I have seen you fall from roofs, fleeing from a scene coated in a wild fire of red. Your deaths are endless, but your lives?” _

_ He disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and you should have ran, should have fought… There were so many paths you could take, just as he said. But you chose to stay. You chose to wait. A sharp noise sounded from behind. Smoke billowed around you as you turned, seeing the man again.  _

_ You’d seen paintings, offered to shrines as though they were a sacrifice themselves. Hell, you’d even sprayed dumb graffiti about the Outsider with friends in your younger days. It was fun to rebel against the Overseers. But maybe you had always believed he was real. Maybe you’d always wished he was watching, leading you to a future of hope and peace. Once your sisters had died, you’d lost all hope. _

_ But he’d always been there, watching through the Void. And now he was here. But why? _

_ “What do you want?” you whispered. It was a foolish thing to do. Who dare asked a God a question? Who dare spoke back to the Outsider? _

_ But he didn’t hit you.  _ **_Like Julius did._ ** _ He didn’t kick you.  _ **_Like Julius did._ ** _ He didn’t try to kill you.  _ **_Like Julius did._ **

_ No, the Outsider  _ **_smiled_ ** _ , stopping as faced you. “To offer you a gift.” Goosebumps prickled your skin as all those rumors came back. You’d heard of those few with gifts only men could dream of. Some could teleport, while others could kill with just a look. But they were hunted not just by commoners, but by Overseers. Those who simply prayed to the Outsider were punished. But those who bared his mark? _

_ You could be tortured. You could be murdered.  _

_ “Why?” Again, a foolish thing to do. You wondered if others asked questions, or simply accepted. You wondered if the offer would be redacted, but instead, that smile grew. The wind played with your hair as he spoke. _

_ “The fate of the empire rests on your shoulders, (Y/N), the very empire that stole your father, your mother, and then your sisters.” The smell of saltwater stung your nose as you remembered the crack of the boat hitting a rock. There’d been screaming, but it was lost to a sea no one could swim in. You swallowed roughly. “I have seen all the paths that lead you here. They are long and limitless, but everything must end. Everyone must die. So the question is… Who will you damn?” _

_ Emily, Corvo, Adelia… So many lives rest on your dagger. You’d taken countless lives with that dagger, but there was always a code you lived by. You only killed those who hurt others. You only took the lives of those who used their power for harm. Corvo and Emily were innocent, but so was Adelia. If you turned your back on your mission, Adelia would be killed by Julius and his lackeys.  _

_ A sharp sting in your face made you raise a hand to your nose. Something wet touched your skin, and when you looked down, you saw blood coating your palm. You’d been attacked. You’d been beaten into a bloody pulp by Julius. You’d let him control your fear. You’d let him to this to you. _

_ No… You no longer would be afraid. You no longer would let him hurt you and use his power to control others.  _

_ “I accept.” _

_ A burn began in your left hand, and you hissed, grabbing at your wrist. You’d been burned before. But this didn’t burn like fire. This burn started in your chest, but bit away at your bone, your veins, your flesh… _

_ Shaking, you raised your hand. _

_ “The man you have to kill stood here years ago. This moment changed him. How will it change you?” _

_ Black ink stuck out against your skin. _

_ And you bore the Outsider’s mark.  _

 

A gasp. A yelp. And you were awake, sitting up in a familiar room with familiar faces. 

But at the movement, sharp pain stung from your ribs as you groaned, collapsing back down. Your head hit a well-worn pillow that smelled of home, and you realized where you were.

You weren’t in the Void. You weren't in the hallway where Julius nearly killed you. You were back in the maid’s quarters, surrounded by friends. A soft hushing came from your side as you groaned, the pain of your injuries slowly seeping back into your consciousness. 

Your ribcage hurt worse than anything else, a constant ache that kept you from opening your eyes. Instead, you focused on breathing, trying to will away the stinging in your cheek and pounding of your head. The hushing seemed to help calm you down, and soon you were able to open your eyes. 

Beth sat beside you, a worried expression on her face. Those wild red locks had escaped whatever bun she’d attempted to construct, and dark bags were under her eyes. But the exhaustion seemed to disappear as she smiled, seeing you were awake. “Hello,” she said, accent thick and casual. “How ya’ feelin?”

“Like shit,” you groaned, taking a deep breath as you shifted. Another stab of pain made you wince but something overcame you. Squinting, you saw Nadette. A stormy expression was on her face, anger thinning her lips and furrowing her brows. Right… You’d talked to her during dinner. You’d talked to her before Julius beat you. 

Before the Outsider marked you. 

A wheeze came from you as you lifted your left arm, eyes wide and body shaking. If the mark was there then it wasn’t a dream, a nightmare. If the mark was there, then the others could have seen, and while they were friends, you couldn’t trust them with this. You couldn’t let anyone know about your mark. You couldn’t let them know your intentions. 

But there were only white bandages over your hand, and you remembered that Julius had stomped on your fingers. A relieved sigh came from you, shaky and breathless as you relaxed into your bed. They didn’t know. 

A wet towel wiped away the sweat and hair on your forehead. It was a ginger touch, one that came from compassion and concern. You’d done this to Adelia so many times when she was sick. “You need to rest,” Nadette murmured, and you nodded.

“I know.”

“He did this didn’t he?” Nadette said, voice calm and numb. You knew she was mad. You felt the subtle twitch in her hand as she wiped away blood. Rage was surely hot in her veins. “Julius… That bastard did this?”

You didn’t say anything. That was answer enough. 

Beth’s face darkend. Concern was still he most prominent feature on her face though. But you saw a familiar spark of anger in her eyes, and you remembered the other day with  Mark. She had been so afraid of him, just like you were of Julius. She let him harass her just as you let Julius beat you. You felt a burn in your hand, a reminder that you no longer had to be afraid of him. 

You didn’t have to be afraid anymore. And with this mark, you’d make damn sure Beth wasn’t afraid ever again either. 

Nadette stepped back, hands shaking dangerously. Her lips were pulled into a growl as she pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to calm herself down. “He fractured two ribs, Vivienne. He broke your nose, and almost your jaw… He almost killed you,” she hissed. “We need to tell Corvo.”

Alarm shot through your veins at the mention, and you went to sit up but blinding, hot pain hit you. A cry ripped itself from you, and Nadette jerked from her anger, gently pushing you down with a sigh. You grabbed her wrist, however, and held her gaze.

Those eyes held so much pain and history. You briefly wondered if there was truth to the rumors of her having a dark past. “Please,” you bit out, and Nadette frowned. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“When they see your face, they will know,” Nadette insisted, but you shook your head.

“Please. Let me handle this.”

She scoffed. “Vivienne, you need to do something! The Moss’s need to be stopped!” she yelled as she stepped back. Anger was clear and present on her face now as she watched you, face red. “They harass everyone, and now they almost killed one of us! We cannot just let them get away with it!” Nadette threw her hands up, spinning on her heel. As she put some distance between you to, her shoulders slumped with defeat. What had the Moss’s done to her? “We have to  _ say  _ something.”

“No.” It hurt to say it, but it hurt more to see Nadette tense. After a moment, she turned to face you, and you’d expected anger, fury, rage… But instead you saw hopelessness. It hurt to see her so lost. You’d seen a cunning, smart woman in that kitchen earlier, but now you saw her as what she truly was; desperate. She was desperate for change. 

That hopelessness dissolved into a calm expression as she let out a deep breath.“Fine,” she said, turning. “I’ll get clean water.” The woman stormed out of the room, leaving you and Beth. Watching her leave revealed that the room was empty besides you two, and a glance to clock revealed it was one in the morning. How long had you been asleep? And where was everyone, especially at such a late hour?

“They’re in the hallway,” Beth explained, and you turned your attention to her. Exhaustion weighed itself heavily on her features, but she still forced a smile. “Once I give them the okay, they’ll come back in. They were really worried, ya know? A lot of them helped us patch you up.”

There was nothing to say. There was nothing in your throat, your chest, and your head. You were simply numb in the wake of the violence earlier. It was a dramatic defeat, one that left you just as lost as Nadette. The only thing giving you hope was the mark on your hand. However, there were plenty of new challenges ahead of you. The brightest challenge was what you would do  _ now.  _ Beth seemed to read your mind because she said, “Natalia is going to find out, and then the Headmistress. They’ll tell Corvo and Emily.” 

Corvo… 

_ The man you have to kill stood here years ago. This moment changed him _

Did the Outsider mark Corvo as well? You’d heard that Corvo had been involved with the Void and its God, but you’d dismissed them for what they were at the time; rumors. But if what the Outsider had told you was true, you’d need even more space from the man than before. You wouldn’t be surprised if Corvo could sense your power. 

“Let me think,” you whispered, and it wasn’t a statement. It was a plea. You didn’t like to beg, nor did you like to show weakness. But Beth had already seen you bruised and bloody. Begging for her mercy wasn’t such a stretch. 

“Of course,” she murmured, wringing out the bloody cloth in her hands. “Take yer time. If ya like, I can tell Natalia you’re sick.”

Yes… That would work. You needed time to figure out a plan, and what to do.Julius had threatened you right before he’d knocked you out, giving you a time limit of two weeks. That left you with many questions.

Would you still go through the plan to kill Corvo and get the money from Julius? Or would you instead set your eyes on the larger, more dangerous threat? Going after Julius and his croons would be tough, especially considering you didn’t know who they all were. And if he caught wind of you poking around, he’d surely not leave you alive. 

He’d surely go after Adelia. 

All you could do at the moment was nod. Your head thundered with pain, and it made thinking difficult. At the sight of you wincing, Beth lay a hand on your wrist. Her skin was cool against yours. “I’ll talk to Nadette. She might not like it, but that’s her problem. And then I’ll tell the other girls Mark did  _ this _ . Now you need to  _ rest,  _ Vivy.” 

Mark was another problem. You couldn't kill the bastard outright as it’d raise suspicions. But he was a definite target in the future. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was involved with the Moss’s. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, relieved at the opportunity to rest. Maybe it was exhaustion talking, or maybe it was the pain or outright foolery, but you trusted Beth. You trusted she’d look  out for you. So you wrapped your fingers around her hand and squeezed. 

A smile brightened her face, and you fell asleep dreaming of the Void. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASED WITH WHAT YOU READ? PLEASE...
> 
>  
> 
> LEAVE A COMMENT!
> 
> comments really motivate us writers. let me know your feedback, what you want to see, or just your thoughts! comments mean a lot to me and it brightens my day when i see a new comment!
> 
> LEAVE KUDOS!
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> kudos help get this story recognized. and to be completely honest - i was gushing to my parents the other day about the kudos i was getting. it made me super happy to reach 100 kudos last week, and i did cheer when i saw we passed 100.
> 
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT!  
> ya'll readers mean a lot to me - so take care of yourselves!  
> and to any readers, if you're interested in beta reading, just leave a comment with how i can reach you! id love to work with ya!  
> <3 <3 <3


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader gains further understanding of her powers, and what they entail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! short time no see.  
> on a more serious note, this chapter is intense. i know ive said that before, but this chapter tackles sexual assault. it isn't rape, but it is assault. it's not graphic or detailed, but it does happen. if this is upsetting or triggering for you, please take caution. i do promise the assaulter is punished, however.
> 
> this chapter was pretty fun but hard to write. i tried to not make it super long, but to keep it genuine and real. i hope this chapter shows just how instrumental relationships are in this story. i originally started the readers character as a cold hearted bitch, but decided it didn't feel right and that things would be boring.  
> id also originally anticipated this story to be around 50,000 words in total. instead its 50,000 words at chapter five out of around 14 chapters in total. 
> 
> like i said - this chapter is intense. i urge you to read the warnings below.  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> sexual assault  
> vomiting  
> violence 
> 
> on a lighter note, i do want to tell ya'll that i made a playlist for this story! more specifically for the reader's character.  
> i did make an oc based off the reader character, and that's who the playlist is made for. but the playlist does also apply to you, dear reader, considering you and the oc are in the same position and story. :)  
> the link will be in the end notes. 
> 
> that should cover it all. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter - things are escalating.

That night, you had nightmares. 

You dreamed of falling off a cliff into angry waves, water pooling in your lungs as you scratched and swam for the surface. But every time your head poked out and you wheezed for air, another wave would sent you down, down, down into the shadows of the ocean. There may have been second chances, but what fool would be given a third chance? What fool would be saved from drowning again?

Not you. And so, in your dreams, you swallowed saltwater and let those pale, bony hands drag you deeper, and deeper… 

You were woken by Beth after every nightmare. At first, you’d jolted straight up and nearly blacked out from the pain in your ribs. But by the second nightmare, Beth was alert and awake at every sudden movement you made. She oftentimes caught you by the shoulders just in time to save you from the blinding pain, comforting words whispered in your ear. “It was a dream.” Beth would lower you back onto the bed, tucking stray hairs away. “It’s not real. You’re okay.”

You knew you weren’t drowning, but you could still barely breathe after just waking. Saltwater stung your throat despite it having no way of getting there, and you blinked away water in your eyes. If you’d been crying, Beth never said anything. Instead, she always offered you a glass of water. 

You only moved when you had to use the washroom, and even then you needed Beth’s help. She would help you slowly stand, easing you up and into her arms. You’d lean into her body as she supported almost all your weight, dragging you towards the room. It was embarrassing, yes. You hated showing weakness, but Beth had shown only kindness to you. She only wanted to help, so you let her.

But even she had to leave and perform her duties just as the others. While the other girls had been quiet and respectful at night, they were louder as they prepared for the day but just barely. On a typical day, they’d be shouting and laughing, but that morning they talked in hushed voices. Some even offered to change your bandages, but you’d politely declined. 

You only trusted Beth and Nadette.

But you hadn’t seen the Tyvian women after she left. Beth had told you she had duties to perform, but you didn’t believe her. When she lied, her left eyebrow twitched. So when Beth sat beside you in her uniform, you watched her carefully. It was six in the morning, meaning she had to get leaving. You hadn’t wanted to ask who’d watch over you when she left, but just as always, Beth read your mind. “I’ll stop in as much as I can, but today’s busy with the upcoming Court meetings. Nadette promised she’d stop by every other hour. So just sleep, okay?” she said, eyes concerned. 

The other girls were leaving the room, laughter growing louder in the hallways. Some tossed looks over to you, worry as clear as day in their faces. You’d gotten to know them more in a single night than in the days you’d been here. But even if they were fellow maids, gossip was unavoidable and you couldn’t risk your words going further than this room.

So when the last maid left, you locked eyes with Beth. “Are you going to tell Corvo?” you asked her, cutting straight to the chase. You watched Beth’s features twist in an array of emotions; anger, fear, sadness… 

“No, ya have my word.” Her eyebrow didn’t twitch, but a deep breath did come from her as she cast a glance towards the hallway. The maids were still chatting, possibly trying to eavesdrop. “But they might.”

Your heart thud loudly in your ears as you licked your teeth, trying to think. But there was still an ache in your chest and head, making your thoughts jumbled and messy. Beth seemed to notice your distress, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Viv, I’ll try my best to keep it under control. But they will talk abou’ a maid nearly being beat to death,” she sighed. “And the Royal Protector’s job is to hear everything to protect Emily.”

_ So he will hear them talk about you.  _

It was unsaid, but understood. 

You took Beth’s hand with your own. “If he asks you, please don’t say anything,” you begged, and the girl nodded. 

“I’ll try not to. But if he shoves me against a wall, I’ll do anything he wants,” she joked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. You couldn’t help but smile too, arm dropping back to your side. Sleep tugged at you. You’d spent the past hour watching Beth and the others get ready. She noticed your fluttering eyes. “Now sleep. After breakfast, I’ll bring up some leftovers for ya, and I swear if you’re awake I’ll piss in your oatmeal,” she threatened, pointing a finger. 

“No you won’t,” you hummed, the darkness pulling you in. You faintly heard Beth whisper a goodbye, but you didn’t even have the energy to wish her goodnight. The sound of waves returned as you sank into your pillow, lulling you into the grasp of the Void.

 

_ A familiar harsh wind bit at your skin, a loud noise ringing in your ears as you found yourself standing at the edge of a cliff. The world around you was a dull grey, and a quick glance around revealed no horizon. This place had a feeling of never ending monochrome, endless dead ends and countless mazes.  _

_ But you knew where you were. You’d been here, on the verge of death just hours ago. You had been so clueless, so lost and hopeless. But something burned in your chest now as you approached the edge of the cliff, peering over.  _

_ There were harsh waves hitting the rocks below, and you frowned. This hadn’t been here before. Why was it here now?  _

_ “How did it feel to have the world ripped out from underneath you a second time?” a familiar voice drawled, and you turned. The Outsider sat on a flat rock, elbows on his knees and hands resting in between. You’d consider his appearance almost casual if it wasn’t the black eyes and coy smile. It was such a subtle smirk that if you hadn’t been on heightened alert you wouldn’t even had noticed it. But you saw his game, and you knew how to play. _

_ “What do you want?” you asked, crossing your arms. You raised your head slightly, peering at him with narrowed eyes. “Why bring me here again? I thought you’d already decided to mark me.”  _

_ That smirk grew as he pushed off the rock, that same smoke billowing off his form. When he moved, the wind seemed to die as it too waited for his next breath. But instead of answering, the Outsider simply disappeared. You didn’t break form, and you didn’t budge as he reappeared just a few feet in front of you. He appeared amused as he looked at you up and down.  _

_ “Do you even know how to use your powers?” he asked, and you didn’t speak. You didn’t move, but the answer was clear; no. You did not know how to use his mark. You didn’t even know what gifts or curses came with the Outsider’s blessing. “You’ve heard countless rumors of what my marked are capable of. You’ve prayed to me on many occasions for the ability to heal, to kill, to resurrect-” _

_ “Enough,” you hissed, throwing your hand out. On cue, a burn hummed under your skin as the mark glowed. Surprise lit your features as you felt the world shift around you, the sound of waves deafening as it crashed and twisted. But you didn’t move, and the Outsider didn’t drop dead. You were almost disappointed you couldn’t kill someone on command, and by the light in the God’s eyes, he saw your disappointment. Clenching your jaw, you raised your left hand so you could look closer. The mark dimmed. Was it broken? “How do I use my powers?” you asked. _

_ The Outsider simply faced you know, outstretching his arms. “I think you know,” he hummed. Your hand dropped to your side, and you clenched it into a fist. But before you could demand answers, he disappeared.  _

_ You looked around, trying to see if the fucker had decided to teleport somewhere again. But you didn’t feel his eyes, or his power. Instead, you simply felt a pull on your chest. A soft song began to play in your ears, whispering a familiar tune in a familiar voice. You closed your eyes, and the burn began to flicker in your body.  _

_ It wanted you to move towards the singing. It wanted you to find the source of the tune, find the girl behind that voice. So you reached a hand towards the voice, and you breathed. _

_ Nothing happened. Nothing fucking happened.  _

_ You stood there, listening to the wave’s steady beat. The song seemed to sink into its influence, the burn of your blood now cold and dead. With a curse, you opened your eyes and dug your nails into your palms. Anger replaced the hope you’d felt, and you paced. _

_ If you were going to do anything for anyone, you needed to understand your powers. They were your only way stopping Julius.  _

_ You tried to stretch your fingers and reach for that sweet, lulling voice, but no matter how many times you tried, nothing ever happened. You even pumped yourself up in an attempt to move, muttering reassuring words and threats of chopping Julius’s dick off. But nothing ever happened. _

_ The mark didn’t even burn. _

_ Sighing angrily in defeat, you stalked to the edge of the cliff. The rough waters were still relentlessly pounding at the wall of cliff, dangerous and deadly if fallen into. They mirrored the sea you’d barely survived in years ago, and the thought made your stomach churn.  _

_ There had to be a reason this was here. In your few encounters with the Outsider, everything was done with purpose. His movements, his words, the Void around you… There was meaning to it all. _

_ So why was this here? _

**_I think you know._ **

_ You had stood at a cliff over a decade ago, clutching a baby to your chest. You’d watched the ship your sisters drowned in slowly sink, cold rain drumming a beat on your skin. You’d used all your coin to buy passage to Karnaca for you and your three sisters after your mother died in birth. There’d been nothing left for you in Dunwall.  _

_ But the seas had been more unforgiving than the city itself, and in a freak accident, the boat had crashed. Your sisters had drowned, and you… _

_ You realized why the Outsider had put this cliff here. Your fingers twitched at the realization. You wanted there to be some other way, but you knew there wasn’t. You knew you had to fall. _

_ After all these years of hearing about the Outsider, you’d never anticipated how much of an asshole he was. _

_ So, just as you’d wanted so long ago, you stepped off the edge of the cliff. _

_ You’d fallen from heights plenty of times. When you were in your teenage years, you’d spent plenty nights scaling roofs and darting in and out of open windows. More often than not, you wouldn’t get a good enough foothold and would take a tumble. The worst time had resulted in a broken ankle, and a good lecture.  _

_ But you’d needed the money you took from unsuspecting families.  _

_ Just like you needed these powers. _

_ So you squeezed your eyes shut and took a breath, preparing yourself to be submerged in cold water. But that coldness never came. That water never washed over you. Instead, that sensation of falling continued.  _

_ You opened your eyes, air whipping the moisture away. A brief concern wondered if you would hit the ground and die, but a glance below you revealed nothing but empty air. The harsh sea had disappeared completely. Now, you were simply falling down...down...down… _

_ The world around you was a mess of gray. It was devoid of anything, a simple sky that you continued to tumble through. The only sound was your ragged breathing, and that soft song in the distance.  _

_ But then something appeared. It was off in the distance, never moving despite your continuous freefall. It was another floating piece of rock, the top flat as figures walked. You squinted, trying to see who was there. Was it the Outsider? No… The figure was much shorter as it approached the edge.  _

_ Your breath stuttered as you realized who it was. It was Adelia. She was the one singing, and you remembered the song. You’d hummed it to her at night when she was afraid to sleep. She always had nightmares of rats, drowning, dying... You would sing her to sleep, reciting the same lines your own mother had used when you were young and restless. _

_ “Adelia!” you called, reaching for her. Even if she wasn’t real, you wanted to see her. No, you needed to see her. You needed to remember those freckles, those eyes, that face… But she didn’t look to you. Her song continued as she stood at the edge of the island of rock. _

_ But then a shadow appeared from behind her, and your blood chilled as you recognized Julius. There was a sickening grin on his face as he steadily approached her from behind, and his words from earlier rang loud and clear. _

“I will kill her.”

_ Panic dug its nails into you as you reached for Adelia, trying to scream. But the wind swept your words away. He was getting closer, and you saw a knife in his hand. You knew what he would do with that knife. You knew he understood how to use it, where to cut and how deep.  _

_ “ _ I’d fuck her body and throw it in the trash.”

_ He was behind Adelia now, and you watched your sister look at you now. But those eyes were black, that knife rose, that porcelain skin split with red and you were screaming. You watched her throat’s skin be cut into a vicious line of blood, saw her eyes roll back and her body drop and- _

_ The world blurred as you reached for your sister’s falling body, anger hot as it scorched away at your veins. That mark on your skin was the only light as you entered a tunnel of shadow, your own personal knife dragging across your chest. You could still see as you locked onto your sister, but everything else became a mess of monochrome and rage.  _

_ You were faintly aware of that song pounding in your head as your fingers wrapped around your sister’s arm. But you did not touch skin. Instead, you touched bone. _

_ That blurred tunnel melted behind you as you collapsed on that island of rock. Despair rocked your body as you were so sure you’d be holding your sister’s corpse, but it was replaced by shock and confusion as you held a plate of bone. _

_ What...what this? Where had your sister gone, and where had Julius disappeared to? And why were you no longer falling through infinity? _

_ “Your powers,” a familiar voice said, and you looked behind you to see the Outsider. His arms were behind his back as he watched you, a glimmer of curiosity bright against his silhouette. “Are a gift, and a curse. Your decisions mold the outcome of which you reap. So tell me, (Y/N), what will you sow? Blood and revenge, or instead hope and peace?”  _

_ He seemed to wait for you to respond, but you couldn’t. There were no words in your throat as you turned your attention back to the piece of bone in your grasp. You’d seen these before, but never heard them. That soft song was a coo that tugged at your chest as you held the rune, fingers tracing over the Outsider’s Mark. When you were sixteen, you’d stolen one from a street vendor by the docks. The vendor had promised good luck, and so you slept with it under your pillow. _

_ When your father died, you broke it in half.  _

_“Is that what this is?” you hissed, anger swelling in your chest. You would consider speaking back at a God a foolish thing, but you’d already established you didn’t know better._ _You’d already made it clear you were a fool. “Some fucked up game to you? To see how I react to seeing my sister_ ** _killed_** _?” You got to your feet, shaking as you faced the God._

_ He watched you, face unreadable as you sneered at him. “I’m not your toy,” you hissed, fists clenching at your sides. You took a step towards him, expecting the bastard to disappear in a wisp of smoke. Maybe he’d kill you on the spot, slitting your throat instead of a fake of your sister. But you didn’t care. “I have spent decades of my life keeping my family alive. I have killed, stolen, ran, fucked for them. I don’t play games,” you snapped as you jut a finger into his chest. It felt silly, but you were surprised that you actually felt a body under your touch. You’d expected him to be an apparition, maybe even actually a figment of your dreams. _

_ The Outsider smiled down at you, and you narrowed your eyes. “Neither do I,” he hummed.  _

_ Silence fell, but you did not move. You were mere centimeters from the God, and you could hear an odd song creaking from his flesh. The world seemed to warp around you as you stood in his vicinity, smoke billowing off his form. You waited for him to disappear, but he didn’t. “Then what is this?” you asked now. _

_ “A warning.” _

_ A scream, and you spun. Mere feet away stood Emily, face contorted in horror as she watched behind you. That presence sank away into the Void, replaced by gnawing emptiness. What was she seeing? Why was she screaming? Heart pounding, you turned to see Corvo. _

_ More specifically, a sword sticking out of his chest.  _

_ A horrified expression painted the man’s face, and you felt your stomach churn.  _

**_He’s not real._ **

_ That sword withdrew with a sickening crunch of flesh. The bloodied body of the Royal Protector collapsed to his knees, a wet wheeze slipping past his lips. But despite the injury, he reached for Emily. _

_ “Father!” she sobbed, trying to move towards him. But arms that belonged to an invisible force held her back. No matter how hard she tried to kick them and bite them, they never released her. Not even when there was another crunch from Corvo. _

_ You looked back to him in time to see his head fall, and you understood. _

 

You jolted awake with a wheeze, hand under your pillow to grab the knife you hid there. It was only when you wrapped your hand around the hilt did you realize that you were no longer in the Void. Corvo wasn’t dead, Emily was okay, and Adelia was miles away attending her classes.

With a deep sigh, you dragged the heels of your palms across your face as you flopped back down onto your bed.  This past day had put you through a lot, and while assassinations were typically a monthly thing, it often didn’t result in you being beat. 

Or getting powers from a God.

You were still suspicious of the Outsider, and stuck on whether or not you were a fool for accepting his mark. You couldn’t quite get a read on him, but he made you uneasy. Why  _ you _ ? Why now?

The last thing he showed you was Corvo being murdered, surely by Julius or his men. Was it a warning from the God of what could come? Would your actions lead to the Royal Protector’s decapitation? You had overlooked that if you didn’t go through with the assassination that it didn’t necessarily mean Julius would stop. The bastard had plenty of resources, and plenty of money to buy power. It would be no surprise if he hired mercenaries.

Surely the Outsider could have warned Corvo instead of marking you. There had to be some game, some reasons behind his decision to mark you. But you simply didn’t know what his intentions were. 

Regardless of the why’s and how’s, you had your own mission. Julius had proven to you that he had a lust for power, and he would go to any length to get the throne. He was everything you looked for in a target; dangerous, powerful, and greedy. There was no doubt in your mind you weren’t his only victim, and if you didn’t act, there would be more.

There would be Emily and Corvo. And Adelia.

There was no question you had to stop him. It was just a matter of  _ how  _ you would. He would kill anyone to protect himself, including you and Adelia. You needed to find his allies, and gather information.

A sharp stab of pain struck you in your head, making you groan and rub your temples. Any thoughts you had dissolved into the agony that slowly crept up on you. With a curse, you tried to ignore the throbbing in your head. There were bigger issues than a possible concussion. 

You needed a plan. You needed to do  _ something _ . So many lives counted on you. But the ache of your body was a constant distraction. No matter how hard you tried to focus, your thoughts melted into the bandages and blood around you.

And you were hungry. Outsider’s cock, you were  _ starving.  _ The last time you’d eaten was the day prior, and all you’d managed to stuff down was a some toast and Janet’s jerky. A glance to the clock revealed it was approaching ten in the morning. You frowned.

Beth had promised to stop by with breakfast after her duties, but she oftentimes was done with serving around eight. She was two hours late… 

Worry twisted your chest. If you weren’t working today, Beth was surely doing your duties. And if she was following your schedule…

She’d be scrubbing the hallways Mark walked through.

With a deep breath, you wrapped your fingers around the ends of your bed. Moving your left hand was the most difficult, joints stiff and inflamed from being stomped on. Jabs of pain struck you in your chest, and you hissed, breathing heavily.

But you’d survived worse. You’d experienced worse. 

So you sat up straight, and blinked back the white spots of hot agony. Faintly, you felt the world hum and turn around you as you breathlessly gasped. But you did not reach through the fabric of this plane. In all honesty, you didn’t even know if you could use your powers. 

You had an idea of how, but actually executing it outside of your sleep was a whole new scenario. Add that to the injuries you sustained, and you knew you wouldn’t be showing off the Outsider’s blessing any time soon.

Right now, you just needed to stand. You needed to get to your feet and walk, to pee, to eat and see if Beth was alright. She had instructed you to not move and to wait for her or Nadette, but listening to rules was something only Vivienne Marsh would do. And the mark on your hand had been given to  _ you.  _

Not a maid. Not a thief. Not an assassin. 

You were chosen because apparently there was something powerful in you, something that caught the eyes of a God. What it was you could not quite yet see - but it was there. And you were determined to prove it if only just to save Adelia from more heartache, Emily from another dead parent, and Corvo from another lost empress.

So you stood up, and you did not fall.

 

You quickly realized that you vastly overestimated your abilities as you walked down the hallway. You’d dealt with severe injuries in the past, and had gotten up to walk Adelia to school the next day. You’d carried out an assassination with a knife to your gut. You’d crawled back to home with a broken ankle. But this? This was far more difficult. 

Moving was difficult. Breathing was difficult. But the gazes on you were the most difficult. 

As you slowly made your way to the kitchen for food, you were bound to come across others. Guards that were patrolling hallways would pause their eyes on you as you slowly hobbled past them, your own gaze lowered. Maids would whisper to each other, and some even offered to help you to the kitchen.

But you refused all offers for assistance. They didn’t need to be involved. 

You tried to keep moving, but it grew more and more challenging. The pain was becoming almost unbearable as you reached the end of the hallway, and you grabbed the wall with a ragged gasp. Black spots flickered in your vision as you rested your body against it, trying to breathe steadily. But you were wheezing, and then you were falling, and then-

“Whoa there,” a familiar voice said, arms wrapping under your arms. Those hands held you up as you groaned, trying to open your eyes. But the agony was so intense and overwhelming. It was all you could do to not pass out from exhaustion. “By the void, what happened to you?” that person gasped, wrapping your arm around their neck. “We need to get you to the infirmary.”

“No,” you managed to wheeze, panic warming your veins. You shook your head, a minimal movement that took too much energy to make. “No… Food.”

“You need medical treatment,” that person insisted, and you made noises of denial. But that wouldn’t be enough. Just your voice wouldn’t get you anywhere, not when your entire body was littered with bruises. So you forced your eyes open, looking up at the person through your lashes.

At first, you realized you had tunnel vision. And then you realized the person helping you was a guard, one that you’d met. It was the woman who’d let you into the palace on your first day. Thompson was her name. Her beige skin was littered with worry, any smile that you saw days ago gone without a trace. You wondered if there was any trace of yourself left on your bruised, ruined face. But as Thompson looked to your eyes, recognition flashed in her own.

“Vivienne,” she whispered, eyes wide with shock and then fury. Her lips curled with anger as she inspected your body, noting your wheezes and coughs. “Who did this to you?” 

“Water,” you croaked and Thompson didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her own arm around your waist, carefully assisting you down the hallway. You weren’t too far from the kitchen, but there was no way you would’ve made it there on your own. It was difficult enough to get out of bed, nonetheless to move. But you needed to check on Beth. You needed to make sure she was okay.

You needed to  _ do  _ something with these powers. 

_ You needed to prove you weren’t a waste, just another poor girl who ended up in an unmarked grave. _

Thompson didn’t speak as she helped you to the kitchen, which you were grateful for. You were in no condition to be talking, or moving at that. But you always had been a fool - no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself that you were anything but.

Maybe that was the part of Adelia that she stored in you. Maybe the naive hope that everything would be work out was from her. Or maybe it was her innocence that kept hope alive in your bones even when you knew the world was harsh, unforgiving, merciless...

You were a fool - but at least you were good at staying alive when being one.

The intense smell of food hit you as soon as Thompson helped you turn the corner, and you stomach rumbled. The woman made a noise in the back of her throat. “When was the last time you ate?” she asked, and you shook your head slightly. You could barely move without agonizing pain, but Thompson thankfully understood. A deep sigh came from her as she approached the door to the staff kitchen. “We’re here.”

The guard opened the door, and for a moment you simply heard the familiar sounds of chefs talking, pots clattering, and food cooking. But all normalcy ended in just a breath, the kitchen falling silent. You lifted your head from the ground, and you heard gasps.

“Holy shit,” a familiar voice said, and you turned your attention to the woman who’d just spoken. A small smile twisted your lips before you winced, remembering it was split. “Vivienne,” Janet hissed, wiping her hands off as she approached you. There was absolute horror in her eyes as she crouched down, gently taking your face in her grasp. Those wet fingers felt like heaven against your sweaty face, and you hummed. As the woman inspected your face, that horror melted in rage. “What the hell happened?” Janet growled, eyes flickering over to Thompson.

The guard shook her head, just as flabbergasted. “I don’t know,” she said. “I found her in the hallway, nearly passed out.”

Janet turned her attention back to you, disapproval evident. “You were walking in this state?” she asked, and you tried to shrug. But the movement put strain on your ribs, and you hissed. That made the older chef’s gaze drift to your torso, a curse coming from her lips. “Shit, she’s bleeding. Help me sit her down.”

Thompson didn’t argue. She helped you over to a chair the other maids had quickly pulled out, gently sitting you down. A few grunts of pain came from you and soft apologies were offered from the guard. But you weren’t angry. You offered the woman as much of a smile as you could manage. Thompson didn’t look very reassured, lips thin and brows furrowed. 

Janet quickly reappeared, now holding a cup of water and bandages. You shakily reached for the cup, throat unbearably dry. When it reached your hands, water sporadically tipped over the edges from your shaking hands. The first cool touch of water on your parched mouth was heavenly, and you hummed in pleasure. Thompson chuckled, a noise that felt displaced among the tension in the room. But you suspected the woman had seen plenty of people bloody and broken. It was in her skillset to deal with sights like you.

The cooks and other maids? Most hadn’t seen someone like you. Most hadn’t had to wrack through their brains and place familiar features they recognized onto you. Most hadn’t had to piece together skin and bones to form a face and body.

But Janet didn’t even hesitate as she kneeled, lifting your dirty shirt from your sticky skin. You hissed through the drink you took, but once you found yourself hydrated, you spoke. “Where’s Beth?” you rasped out, voice cracked and ugly. You didn’t care. At least now you could talk, even if it was painful.

Janet didn’t reply - too focused on peeling away your ruined shirt. You didn’t even recognize what you wore. Beth or Nadette must’ve loaned you some clothing, and now they’d have to loan you more. It was difficult to get blood out of clothing, especially if it was white. 

Thompson sighed. “I saw her when I came in for lunch. She was scrubbing the floors,” she said, and you stiffened, nostrils flaring. If it was approaching lunch, Mark would be passing by. A glance to the clock revealed it was getting closer to eleven. The lazy bastard always did take an early lunch. 

Your hand clenched, the left one barely able to move after all the strain you’d put it through. Adrenaline began to pump, dulling the edge of your broken and fractured bones. “I need to find her,” you said, wrapping your fingers around Thompson’s upper arm. “She’s in danger.”

Janet’s eyes flashed dangerously as you moved, and she pressed her hand against your sternum. “ _ No, _ ” she growled. “You cannot move. Not in this state. Your ribs could be broken, and you could be bleeding internally. You need a doctor,” Janet insisted, holding your gaze. There was something in her expression that reminded you of your mother. She was the steel hull of a vessel, penetrable by only the sharpest of rocks. You found that those your mother had cared about tended to be what broke through, and sitting there, wounded and crippled, you found that maybe you were one of those rocks. 

“No,” you gasped, trying to sit up straight. The movement shifted your weight onto your ribs and you groaned, collapsing back. White spots flickered in your vision as you shook your head. “No one can know.” Desperation was crawling in, its sharp claws an unwelcome scratch deep in your core. You needed to find Beth - not a doctor. Mark could be harassing her, beating her, assault- You pushed through the pain, opening your eyes to look at Janet. “ _ Please _ .”

You hated to beg. You hated to be in the hands of other people, but you would not let Beth be hurt. You would not let Julius control you through what he did to you. 

It was with your look did Janet clench her jaw and cut away the soiled bandages. Thompson watched her too, a scowl on her own face. There was something on the cook’s mind. She was tossing and turning her thoughts as she inspected your ribs and the various scrapes. You didn’t even have a warning when she uncorked a small flask from her pocket and poured the contents on your skin.

You let out a wince and Thompson squeezed your hand in reassurance. “You’re a tough one,” the guard said, and you smiled. You’d gotten plenty of scrapes and gashes over the years. Although Adelia oftentimes would be the one to help disinfect them and bandage you up, not a chef you met just the other day. 

“He did this, didn’t he?” It was barely above a whisper, barely something you caught over the hushed voices in the room. But it still made your blood run cold. It still made your stomach churn and face pale. You could feel all the eyes on you as they watched your reaction, surely trying to hear Janet. But she kept this between you, her, and Thompson. She knew how dangerous her words could be as she spoke. 

You felt Thompson shift, her hand not leaving yours. She leaned towards Janet, and you saw her eyes flicker with something curious...something stirring… “Who?” she asked, voice as inquisitive as it were stricken

“Moss.”

You bared your teeth at the older woman. “Do you want to get people killed, Baird?” you hissed, using the woman’s last name. That got her attention, and she snarled back.

“Of course not, but he will hurt someone again. And this time he won’t let them live.” The next time, it would be Adelia. And then it would be Emily, Corvo, and finally - you. The thought made you nauseous as you squeezed your eyes shut. You needed to find Beth, make sure she was okay, and then… 

Then what?

You needed to heal, yes. You needed to heal so you could work and find information on Julius. But all you had was two lousy weeks before he killed Adelia and the others. And as much as it pained you to say it, Janet was right. You needed to see a doctor. You needed pain meds. You needed  _ help.  _

“Take me to Beth,” you said, not opening your eyes. “And then take me to the infirmary.”

You opened your eyes now, noting a sliver of light in Janet’s eyes that revealed she was pleased with your decision. Thompson let out a sigh. “I’ll help ya there,” she offered. “First, I’ll get some scotch for the travel.” The woman offered a coy smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and stepped away to give you and Janet some privacy.

You watched Janet wrap the bandages with a level of expertise you only saw from childrens of the slums. “Quick and neat,” you hummed, and Janet nodded, not looking to you.

“My youngest sister always got into fights. Eventually the docs on the streets stopped helping her cuz she put such a dent in their stock,” she said, cracking a smile at the last sentence. It wasn’t with mirth. “I learned how to make bandages over time, and how to wrap them.”

“What happened to her?” you asked.

“She was murdered,” Janet replied.

Was it wrong you didn’t feel surprise? Was it wrong you expected for her sister’s tale to end with her six feet under in a grave? Maybe it was, but it was the least of your worries as you nodded. “I’m sorry,” you offered.

“Thanks.” It fell silent as you watched Thompson take out her own personal flask, quickly downing what remained before refilling it. “That’s why I want Julius to be stopped.”

That made you pause, eyes narrowing. “Why Julius?” you asked, watching the older woman’s lips thin in a frown. “Did he do something to your sister?”

“Yes. He was the one who killed her.” Anger flushed out that fear and pain in your veins. It was bitter in your blood as you watched Janet’s irises raise, holding your own. “She worked for him, making a good pay. I was proud of her for getting a job as she liked to spend most of her time drinking or brawling. Those whaling boats always have openings, so she went with them on a hunt. But the day she left I had accidentally slept in and didn’t get to wish her luck.” Janet smirked, taking a quick shot from the flask she’d used on you. A deep breath came from her as she licked her teeth. “She drowned...fell overboard as they were chasing a gam. Julius was the captain that day, and instead of stopping and helping her he moved went after those damned whales and killed every single one of them,” she spat, face turning red and eyes watering with unshed tears. No amount of shots would take away that pain, that grief and that sadness. 

“How old was she?” 

“Eighteen.” Her sister had been barely older than Adelia when she died, and it only reinforced your fear that Julius would stoop low enough to kill your sister or Emily. Your friend saw your thoughts. “Why did he do this?” 

“Because I let him,” you bit out. “I let him beat me because I thought I deserved it, because I was too afraid to fight back.”

“He threatened you?”

“He’ll kill my sister. He’ll kill all of you, and I can’t… I can’t let that happen.”

Janet didn’t say anything, frowning down at your bare stomach as she wrapped your bandages. Thompson returned to your side, an understanding smile on her face as she offered you the now full flask. “Drink?” she asked, and you nodded. With a toss of your head, you downed a considerable amount of booze. It stung and burned as it slid down your throat, but its pain was nothing compared to your ribs, your nose, your body. “Always helps,” Thompson mused, and you pursed your lips as you handed the flask back to its owner. 

“Corvo will know who hurt you,” Janet finally said, standing. With a glance downward, you noticed she finished changing your bandages. You sat up straighter now, the tight compression of your wrappings making it easier to move. “He saw Julius follow you out. It doesn’t take a genius to piece it together.”

“I know,” you snapped, sick of hearing about Julius. “I know Corvo will figure it out. But just let me do this. I can’t let anyone get involved,” you hissed. “He will kill you if he figures out you know.”

Thompson snickered, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “Let him try,” she bolstered, and you shot her a look. If he could do this to  _ you - _ a survivor of the slums and the plague - then he could easily do this to a guard who went through a few years of training. But you didn’t say that. It would complicate matters even more. 

Janet didn’t look over to the guard, instead keeping her eyes trained on you. There was a look on her face as she searched you for something you didn’t know. But you saw the understanding in your friend’s face. You knew she understood the reach of your attacker, and the damage he could do. She knew you had a sister, knew you came from the slums and that if he could hurt you, it wasn’t that big of a step to hurt anyone else. Janet suspected something, and maybe one night you would tell her. Maybe you would reveal your conflicts and your fears as alcohol flushed your veins, licked your blood and your brain. 

But not today.

Not right now.

With a deep sigh, Janet pushed back her natural hair. “Fine, but when shit hits the fan, I’m not stepping in for you.” A lie. That was a lie, and everyone knew it. Janet cared too much to not speak up for you and help, but no one said anything. “Thompson, take her to Beth and then the infirmary. And if I see you up and walking, I’ll knock you on your ass,” Janet said, shooting you a warning look. You smiled in both humor and appreciation of her words. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, reaching up for Thompson. The woman helped you get to your feet, wrapping one arm around your waist. She took your right arm and rest it over her shoulders, a comfortable enough position that it didn’t jar your injuries too badly. 

“Don’t make me regret this,” Janet hissed.

“I won’t.”

A lie. That was another lie, but now - only you knew it.

 

Thankfully the distance from the kitchen and the grand staircase wasn’t too great. And with Thompson’s help, it wouldn’t take much time to get to Beth. 

The only downside of the short distance was that your thoughts were racing, trying to create a plan of what you would do. Something deep in your chest told you that Beth was in danger, and that Mark was responsible. And if you caught him hurting her? You honestly didn’t know what you would do other than to  _ attack.  _

The weight in your left hand agreed, and you wondered what else you could do with your powers. You knew you had the ability to more or less teleport. But there had to be more to what you could do. And if your abilities surged with emotions, it was possible you could accidentally use them when facing Mark.

The last thing you wanted was to be tortured by the Abbey and branded a heretic. Then you really were fucked. 

“Why are you so worried about Beth, anyway?” Thompson asked, the two of you approaching a corner. You wondered if you should trust her. You’d met her when you first arrived at the Tower, but had only just began to talk and get to know her. Granted, you had entrusted her with the details of the very man who’d threatened to kill you and everyone involved. She knew more than most.

“Bad feeling,” you huffed out, a lame excuse. Thompson knew it wasn’t the whole truth. But you didn’t let her ask any questions, nodding your head to the corner you two were approaching. “There. Turn right, and then we’re almost to the stairs,” you said, and the woman nodded. You recognized it was a conscious decision of her own to not press you. Maybe she took pity on you in your weakened state, or maybe she shared your own gut feeling. Whatever it was, you were thankful for her silence. 

You clenched your hands into fists as you prepared yourself to see Beth being attacked by Mark. You anticipated seeing her at the top of the stairs, seeing Mark attacking her. There was a surge of anger in your chest as you took a deep breath in, willing your powers to stay calm and tangled within each other. You turned the corner, eyes greeting new light and scenery and-

Not Beth.

Not Mark.

Not...anyone.

The hallway was empty, including the top of the staircase. The anger and fight drained from you as you were greeted with absolute absence. Confused, you asked Thompson what time it was. “Quarter past eleven,” the guard hummed, just as puzzled as you. “She should still be here, right?” 

You nodded. “Go look for me. I need to rest,” you sighed. Thompson nodded, gently lowering your arm and helping you rest against the wall. Once she was sure you were comfortable, the guard left your side to approach the staircase. You noted she walked with confidence and ease, and you remembered the day you met her. She’d defended you from a creepy guard. 

Was she trustworthy? Something in your chest said she was, but the place that instinct came from had also warned you that Beth was in danger. If your instincts were wrong about Beth, how could you trust Thompson? How could you trust  _ yourself _ ?

“This doesn’t make sense,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think and will away the dull ache of pain. Without a second thought, you reached into your pocket and pulled out that flask. You uncorked the object, downing the alcohol inside. As the sharp sting of the drink swiftly traveled down your throat, you heard it.

Bangs. There were muffled bangs down the hallway. You raised your head, pain fading away into confusion. Your first suspicion was that Thompson had found Mark, and was squaring up with the son of the bitch. But when you glanced down the hallway, you only saw the guard looking around. There was no sign of Mark or Beth.

Except those bangs. You heard a few more from in front of you. A frown made its way onto your face as you pushed off the wall, wrapping a hand around your ribs to ease the pain. Were you imagining that noise? Your gut said you weren’t. Where were they coming from? Your gut said the only door in the hallway. Why were they coming from there? Your gut said check, check, check, check, check…

You hobbled towards an old storage closet, the only room in the hallway. Beth had mentioned that the room wasn’t used for anything besides quick fucks, so you briefly wondered if maybe some nobles or guards were going at it. But your gut said to check. Your gut said to rip that door off its handles, to kick it in, to open it.

So you opened the door to the storage closet.

You saw hazel eyes, and you flew into a fury.

All the agony that weighed down your body melted into cool, hot rage as you saw Mark’s hands holding up Beth’s shirt. Red marks disturbed her pale skin - all in the shape of a large hand. Your lips curled back as you flung open the door completely, something that would surely catch Thompson’s attention. Even if it didn’t, you wanted this sick bastard to realize he was caught.

He was fucked.

That ugly face turned to you, puffed up and red. For whatever odd reason, the adrenaline starting to pump made you realize his lips were stained red. There was a cut on his lower lip, and a quick glance to Beth revealed that her own mouth was bloody. She’d fought back.

She’d struggled.

And now you’d stop her own pain.

Mark’s face contorted into anger, not truly understanding the danger of your presence. He was so ignorant. He was so selfish. He was so...putrid. It made you shake with rage as you watched him spit at your feet, not even lessening his grip on both Beth’s shirt and wrist. “Get outta here, whore. Don’t cha see we’re having a nice conversation?” he chuckled, and you saw Beth’s face pale even further.

She was so scared, so ashamed… 

So you licked your teeth, clenching your fingers. “Watch your mouth,” you hissed, and Mark squinted at you. His eyes traveled from your feet to your head, lingering on the bruises and cuts.

“Ah, I’d heard Julius taught his bitch a lesson. He sure knows how to choose ‘em,” he grunted before nodding to the hallway. “I won’t let your...insubordination reach his ears if you close that door and continue on yer merry way,” he hummed. You saw Beth’s eyes flicker to you. Her breath was ragged and short, face wet with tears and bruises. He’d hit her.

You didn’t even give the man the pleasure of a response. Biting your tongue, you pushed your body past its limits and kneed Mark in the groin. A wheeze came from the man as he buckled. As he leaned over, you grabbed his head and slammed his head into your knee. With a curse, he stumbled backward into the wall. Old, wooden shelves collapsed from his weight and effectively buried him. You snickered.

“Vivienne! Are you-” The guard stopped in horror as she saw Beth’s bruised and bloody body. “Beth? Oh my - are you okay?” she asked, a needless question that answered itself. Mark groaned from the mess of debris, and you stepped in front of your friend protectively.

“Get her out of here,” you ordered. Thompson’s incredulity was almost audible.

“Are you insane? You both need to go to the infirmary,” she hissed, and you tossed a look over your shoulder. Beth was shrinking away from both of you, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. When Thompson reached for her, she flinched.

That fury rekindled its fire as you watched Beth be so traumatized. You remembered your mother’s look when she came back from work, when she found her sons dead, and when your dad drowned. So scared of touch - have it be from friends or from life. 

“Just  _ go.” _

“You’re hurt! Leave him! He’s not worth it.”

“He is worth every single moment of pain I can inflict on him,” you growled, face twisting into an animalistic snarl. Mark was groaning and shifting, and Thompson knew he couldn’t hurt you. She knew you’d been hurt by worse, survived much worse. 

“He could hurt you.”

No he couldn’t. Everyone knew it. But Thompson had to say it. If she didn’t, she would be an alibi to possible murder. 

“He can’t,” you said. “So go.”

The guard clenched her jaw, looking around for a moment before sighing. “Don’t make me regret this,” she whispered, something barely audible over the deafening silence. It was a plea, one that you couldn’t quite ensure. You didn’t know what you would do. You hadn’t had time to plan this. You didn’t have the weapons to kill him. 

All you had was your broken body, and the Outsider’s blessing.

Thompson turned, and Bethany flinched away again. Her hair was a mess, her face free of pallor and coated in sweat and blood. But it wasn’t her face that haunted you - it was her eyes. There was no emotion other than  _ fear.  _ There was no humor, no sarcasm, none of the life that you envied and loved. It had been ripped into little strips and burned.  

As the guard escorted your friend away, you knew what you would do.

So you closed the door, locked it shut and shed the bandages covering your left hand. The mark was a stark contrast against your skin, even in the soft light of the old bulb above. As you clenched your fingers, it glowed with promises of incomprehensible things. It made your head pound, blood rush and eyes dilate.

It made Mark gasp in terror. It was a noise you cherished. 

“See this?” you asked, slowly approaching him. The room wasn’t necessarily big, but it allowed some space between you and Mark. That space let him breathe and recover which was something you wouldn’t allow him. So, despite your injuries, you kneeled in front of him. The alcohol from earlier dulled the pain of moving, and as you maintained Mark’s frightened gaze, you felt no soreness. You felt no ache. You only felt disgust. “You’re going to tell me everything you know, or I will use this.”

You didn’t know yet if you were just speaking lies. As of that moment, you only knew how to move with your powers, not if you could harm. 

_ “I think you know.” _

The Outsider said you knew of your powers and how to use them. The only times you had used your powers, however, was in the Void and under emotional distress. And while you were angry, you felt no surge of  power in your veins. You felt no bend of time and reality. You only saw Mark, scrambling to both speak and flee.

“What do you want to know?” he gasped, and you saw tears in his eyes. 

_ Coward. _

“You mentioned Julius. How do you know him?” you asked, and Mark wheezed. He moved, trying to get all the shelves off of his body. But a glimmer of silver caught your eye, and you spotted Mark’s hand reaching for something on his belt. Your lip peeled back as you grabbed his hand, pulling it up. Your other hand grabbed the pistol he’d been reaching for, examining it. The man’s wheezes picked up as you emptied its chambers, rendering it useless. “Really? Trying to shoot me? That’s not gonna work, Marky,” you hissed as you threw the weapon behind you. The thud of it hitting the wall made the man flinch.

“Yer j-just a maid,” he whimpered, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Clearly you’re not best buds with Julius. A shame - maybe you would’ve realized to not fuck with me,” you growled, twisting Mark’s hand. A sickening crunch came from it, and the man opened his mouth to scream. But you leaned forward, covering his lips. The noise he emitted was muffled against your skin, and you hoped he felt how you did the night prior.

_ Isolated...scared...royally fucked… _

“That bastard will kill you,” Mark gasped, holding his broken hand to his chest. Tears were streaming down his ugly face, snot covering his nose and lip. “He’ll fucking murder you. you dumb cu-”

“Tell me what you know,” you hissed, glowering. “Tell me what you know, and I won’t kill you.”

“Then he’ll murder  _ me, _ ” he said, shaking his head with a wry laugh. He turned his eyes to the ceiling. “You really don’t know what he’s capable of, do ya?” You narrowed your eyes, not dignifying him with a response. You knew he would speak. A disgusting laugh came from the man, a wheezy noise that came from years of smoking. “He has eyes everywhere. He knows when you’re shitting, sleepin’... He knows who you love, and how to kill em to kill you.” 

“No shit,” you snarled. “How about you tell me who else is with him?”

Another chuckle. “That’s suicide. I’d rather die.”

You wanted to smash his head into the wall. You wanted to break every goddamn bone in this man’s body because he deserved it. He deserved so much pain, and punishing people like Mark was your duty. It was your job to protect people from greedy, evil people. 

But you knew you couldn’t. You couldn’t kick him, punch him,  _ break him…  _ You were broken yourself, barely able to even  _ breathe.  _ You could use his pistol to shoot him, but you didn’t have the luxury of privacy. You were in a room near the busiest hallway in the Tower, and there was no way you could move him.

So you licked your split lip, wiped away your anger, and nodded.

“Alright,” you sighed, understanding what you had to do. “You think Julius is the worst?” Holding Mark’s gaze, you raised your left hand again. His own eyes flicked to your mark again, and his throat bobbed. “He doesn’t have the powers of a heretic.”

There was something inside you that had changed. Maybe it was altered when Julius beat you nearly to death, or when the mark burned itself into your hand. There was no clear answer to when it had changed or why. What you did know is that whatever was modified was some instrumental part of you. It was what made your blood rush, heart soar, and skin prick with goosebumps. 

And your body did all that as you reached into that part. It was where you kept all those memories of your family and the ones you loved. It was where your mother’s eyes remained, a bright (e/c) that glimmered with her smile. It was where your memories of your sibling’s births rest, nights spent waiting outside as the midwife worked and worked until you finally heard a baby’s cry. It was where you hid Adelia’s face, freckled and bright as she took notes and studied.

It was where you kept your first day of school, the first time you held your siblings, the first time you kissed and made love, the first time you saw Adelia walk off to school… 

And now, you found Beth’s smile there. You found Janet’s laugh. And you uncovered the little bits and pieces of those you wanted to protect from Julius and his reign of terror. 

You felt everything, and you wrapped your hands around it and held it  _ tight _ . It made your mark burn with promises and dreams, just as curious as you to see what you could do. Mark’s eyes held the same question as you met them with your own, horror clear and vivid under the bulb’s dull glow. 

_ What will you sow? Blood and revenge… _

You could kill him. You could snap his neck, make his skin melt off, stop his heart or burst his lungs. You could snap every bone and tear every tendon. There was so much you could do to this monster that wore the mask of a man sworn to protect. 

_ Or instead hope and peace?”  _

Or you could uncover his secrets, untangle the plot that he was tied into. You could figure out how deep the corruption in this tower went, and put faces to the threats that nipped at your heels. You could protect Beth, protect Adelia, and protect Emily. 

So with your own cry, you grabbed Mark’s head with your hands and let that new part of you flood your body. You faintly felt your entire arm burn with your powers, searing away at your skin and blood. But it melted away into memories, thoughts, fears…

But they weren’t yours. 

These memories that you felt enter your own belonged to someone else. It was overwhelming, making whatever this sudden connection was shake and split. But you needed to figure out what  _ this  _ was ; this odd link that was one-way and flooding. You needed to find out who was working with Julius, how Mark was involved, why he hurt Beth and when and-

It was only when you saw the first time you beat Beth did you realize what you had done. You had connected and established control of the bastard’s mind. The realization made your fingers twitch and the connection shiver, flickering into something deadly and dangerous. 

You could  _ control  _ Mark. This...this power the Outsider had given you allowed control of other people, and granted access to their knowledge.

“Tell me who’s working for him,” you commanded, voice sounding far off and unfamiliar. “Tell me what you know.”

But with your command, your access to Mark’s memories stopped. Something snapped between the two of you, and a sharp shock struck your hand. You jumped back, wincing at the electrical spark with a curse. What the hell? Why had you been ejected from Mark’s mind? 

You hissed, cursing the Outsider under your breath as you looked at Mark. The man was slumped over, chin on his chest as he appeared to be unconscious. A frown came on your face as you watched him, feeling that part in your core hum a familiar song. 

That frown deepened when Mark looked up, eyes black and unseeing. His face had paled dramatically, and he appeared to have aged decades in just moments. Confusion plagued you as you tilted your head, watching him mirror your movements. When you raised your hand, he raised his too.

Was this your power?

Instead of reading minds, you...controlled them? To answer your question, you said, “Stand up.”

Mark stood up.

“Sit down.” 

Mark sat down.

“Tell me who’s working with Julius.”

And he did. Mark spilled all the details he knew, which wasn’t much. It was no surprise he didn’t know all you wanted considering he was just a guard. His role with Julius was to keep an eye on the staff and to report anything that concerned the Moss’s effort to usurp the throne. In reward, Julius would keep his actions against maids from reaching those in power. 

The Moss’s had no morals.They had no humanity, and it only reassured you that fighting against them was the answer. The only problem at the moment was your inability to barely move. Even standing up straight from your crouched position required a solid minute. 

You needed to go the infirmary to have your injuries looked at and to get pain medication. Then you could take down the Moss’s.

But you couldn’t leave Mark here. You didn’t know how long your powers would last, but as each second ticked you felt more and more drained. Exhaustion began to pick at your skin, leaving you raw and vulnerable. 

You needed to go the infirmary, but they would wonder who hurt you. They would know Julius hurt you.

You needed Mark gone, but you couldn’t kill him in cold blood. They would know you killed him. 

You took out the flask Thompson had given you, knocking back a long drink. The alcohol gave you a decent enough buzz, one that would make what came next easier. With a sigh, you faced the black eyed Mark. His gaze was trained only on you, not even blinking. 

He’d proven his use. Now all you had to do was give him his final command.

 

Leaving Beth was difficult for Thompson. She’d known the girl ever since she’d arrived at the Tower six months prior. Back then, she’d had the brightest eyes even under a clouded sun. Her smile had made Thompson’s heart flutter and her stomach flip.

“I’m Bethany Miller,” she’d said, nodding her head in a polite manner. “I’m here as a maid.”

Geralt had snorted, some dumb comment coming from his mouth. It had been enough to make Bethany’s smile fall and that light in her eyes to flicker. But Thompson had stepped in, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants with a sheepish grin. “I’m sure you’ll be a damn fine one,” she’d said, voice shaky. It had sounded dumb. In all honesty, she’d wanted to compliment her freckles, her hair, her smile, her eyes…

But Bethany had grinned and tucked away a curly, red lock. “Th’nk ye,” she’d replied, and the sound of her accent had made Thompson grin too. The girl had been embarrassed, face flushing.

Geralt was about to make some rude comment, so Thompson had opened the door to inside the Tower. There had been a grateful expression on the girl’s face as the guard gestured for her to enter. “Cute accent,” she’d commented, memorizing the way her lips curled, eyes glittered, hair flew…

All that was gone.

When Thompson had brought in Beth, her skin was pale, eyes dull, lips thin… Rage had replaced that excitement of being around her, planted by that bastard Mark. Everyone in the ranks knew of how much a prick he was, and Thompson herself had made plenty of complaints. But every complaint made to those in power was ignored. Nothing was done.

And while Thompson was confused as shit on what was going on with you, it was no surprise to hear about Julius. Hearing what Mark said about the fucker only solved the question of why nothing had been done. Julius was involved with the guards getting away with dirty work. But why? And how did you tie into it?

Thompson didn’t know, but she didn’t have much time to ask Beth. The moment she was sure the maid was safe in the infirmary, she slowly approached her. Beth could barely look at the guard, eyes flicking away and often trained on the ground. It broke Thompson’s heart. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised. “I swear.”

Beth nodded, a small and subtle movement that Thompson barely caught. But it was enough. So, with rage hot in her blood, she spun on her heel and rushed towards the staircase. She had an idea of what you would do to Mark, but you were full of surprises. After all, she hadn’t anticipated coming across your bruised body when going to take her lunch.

However, the last thing she anticipated to see as she turned the corner was Mark punching you. Years of training had honed her skills enough to only make her move faster as she watched Mark hit you square in the jaw. Your body dropped, an open shot for the bastard to drive his knee into your ribs. He went for another kick, but Thompson was there.

Her arms wrapped underneath Mark’s, pulling him back with a shout. “Mark!” The man resisted, trying to tug out of her grip. “Stop it!” He didn’t. Instead, he threw an elbow back that hit her square in the nose. A sickening crunch came from it, followed be searing pain. “Fuck!” Thompson stumbled back, eyes wide with shock as she wiped underneath her nose. Her skin came away bright red with blood. Growling, she clenched her hands into fists and looked back to Mark. “Oh, you fucked up now-”

Except that wasn’t Mark. Mark had brown eyes, puffy skin and a pudgy body. This man had that body, had his puffy skin but his eyes… They were black. Thompson paused, bouncing back on her heel as she slightly lowered her fists. “Mark?” she asked, but the man didn’t reply. He didn’t even show any recognition or understanding. Instead, he spun back around to face  _ you.  _ “Shit, Vivienne!” 

You were still bent over, coughing and groaning. But at the cry, you looked up to see Mark approaching with the intent to kill. Underneath your black eye and purple skin, Thompson saw fear, anger… And then she was moving. 

With a roar, Thompson rushed forward towards Mark. The man barely turned around before her hands collided with his back, sending him flying down the stairs. There were crashes and bumps, but the guard didn’t move her eyes from you. 

“Viv?” she asked, and you turned your gaze up to her. Blood caked your skin, lip split and nose out of place. But you didn’t look much worse than you had before. That wasn’t saying much, however. With a wry smile, Thompson offered her hand to you. “You’re welcome,” she said, and the corners of your lips curled up into a ghost of a smile. You took her hand and let her pull you to your feet, but Thompson’s eyes weren’t trained on you. 

They were trained at the bottom of the stairs. 

Mark’s body lay on the tile floor, broken and snapped into places no bone should be in. His head was still twitching, eyes flicking back and forth as he gurgled in pain. After a moment, his fingers eased in their movements and his eyes went dull. He was dead.

For a moment, no one said anything as you looked to Mark’s body as well. But there was no stiffening, no gasps, no tears… There was only a sigh and a shake of your head. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

Thompson nodded, something odd twisting in her chest. She had seen death during the plague. She’d seen soldiers get infected and die a slow, brutal death. But she had never  _ killed  _ before. Fellow soldiers had put a bullet in the heads of others, and they often woke in the night screaming and crying from nightmares of the incident. Some even killed themselves from the guilt.

But as Thompson saw the hands that had hurt Beth, broken and bent, there was no guilt. There was no sadness. There was only relief at the knowledge Mark would never hurt anyone again. 

She turned with a huff, looking to you. But your eyes were on Mark’s body, a frown on your face. She noticed that your face was pale under the bruises, and that your left hand shaking. “You alright?” Thompson asked, placing her own hand on your shoulder. You were unnaturally cold. Worry replaced the relief and adrenaline. “Vivienne?”

“I don’t feel good,” you choked out. Before Thompson could do anything, you bent over and vomited. 

“Shit!” Thompson yelled as you stumbled forward, eyelids fluttering. “Shit shit shit!” Just as you went to tumble down the stairs as Mark did, she got her arms around your waist and pulled you back. Where there was skin there was sweat, and a quick hand to your forehead revealed a hot temperature. Fuck, if you had a fever that probably meant an infection. While it wasn’t a surprise you’d have one after a plethora of beatings over the past 24 hours, it wasn’t good. 

The guard cursed as she picked you up bridal style, noting how’d you’d gone limp in her arms. This was a clusterfuck. Beth was attacked and traumatized, Mark was dead, and now you were unconscious. Not only that, but Thompson was now surely knee deep in whatever shit Moss had going on in the Tower. And she hadn’t even had the chance to eat her lunch. 

With a groan, Thompson sprinted back down the hallways she’d just come from. A few guards had shown up due to the chaos, but they quickly stepped aside as she ran. The few that didn’t were swiftly shoved aside with a curse. 

Beth was waiting at the infirmary door, dressed in new clothing. A blonde woman was behind her, arms crossed. Thompson didn’t recognize her, but she surely recognized you. At the sight of your unconscious, bloody body, Beth gasped and the blonde hissed. 

“What the fuck happened?” the blonde growled as she opened the doors for the both of you. Thompson shook her head, unsure of where to begin. The blonde looked from her face to your unconscious body, noting the blood and sweat on your face. Frowning, she pressed her hand against your forehead and swore again. “Shit! Nurse! Help!”

A few nurses who were checking supplies immediately looked over, noting Thompson and you. They immediately flew into action, rushing over with a stretcher. The blonde woman helped Thompson lay you down onto the gurney, both of them stepping back as the nurses performed their jobs. One checked your eyes while the other got your blood pressure, rolling you away into a separate room. That left Thompson, Beth and the angry blonde woman with no one but each other. Beth didn’t seem to move as the blonde raked her fingers through her hair, pacing. 

“What happ-”

“Some shit,” the guard sighed, reaching up to pinch her nose. Where did she even begin? Unsure of what to do, she placed her hands on her hips and faced the two maids. Beth looked so scared, shrinking even more in on herself with each moment. Was she afraid that Mark was alive and he would find her and punish her? “Mark is dead,” Thompson blurted, just wanting for the redhead to not be afraid anymore. Said woman stiffened, and the blonde exhaled deeply. “I killed him.” Sure there were certain circumstances that complicated matters, but Thompson knew the reality of the situation. She had  _ pushed  _ him, and because of that, he had died. He’d snapped his neck. 

“Where did they take Vivienne?” Beth asked, voice unusually meek. 

“Probably the O.R,” the blonde said. “She surely has internal bleeding, probably an infection…” she trailed off, eyes distant. She couldn’t finish. Things just got worse if she continued. 

“Will she be okay?”

There was no answer, the only noises being distant discussions and Thompson’s stomach rumbling. The noise made the blonde woman snort. “Lunch got interrupted?” she asked, and the guard gave her a long look. 

“If I knew I’d be involved in a fight, I would’ve taken my break earlier,” she replied before running her hands through her hair. Fuck, she was exhausted. But she knew she couldn’t sleep or relax. Her mind was racing with questions ranging from if you would be okay to if she would be fired, arrested or jailed. Casting a glance to the others, she knew they all had similar thoughts on their minds too. “I’m going to go tell Janet. I’m sure she’s heard of the fight and Vivienne. She’s probably worried out of her mind. Want me to get you guys any food?” she asked, and the blonde nodded.

“Yeah. Get me some brandy, and Beth an apple,” she said, and Thompson forced a smile on her face, nodding.

“Yeah, sure.” The guard turned, prepared to face the masses in the hallways and the mess. She’d rather do it out there than in the stuffy infirmary. But as she went to open the doors, the doors opened for her. Thompson expected to see the head of the Guard or maybe the Headmistress, and prepared to either explain or slide by.

But instead, she stopped dead in her tracks. 

“What happened?” Asked Corvo Attano, and Thompson wished she hadn’t given her flask to you. 

 

You didn’t dream this time. You weren’t woken by nightmares, by dreams of drowning or those you cared about dying. You weren’t even graced with dreams of warmth and happiness. There was simply emptiness, and a state of content as you stirred. 

A long sigh came from you as you felt reality return, turning your head to the side. “Mmm,” you hummed as you went to move your arms. But something was touching your left hand, a feather-light graze of a finger over your skin.

Alarm replaced anything happiness you felt as your eyes shot open, right arm reaching for the knife that you hid under your pillow. But the first sight of where you were revealed you weren’t in the maid’s quarters. You weren’t at home. No, you were in a private room surrounded by soft wallpaper and medical equipment.

You were in a private room with Corvo Attano.

He sat beside your bed, brown eyes narrow and calculating as he observed your movements. Your right hand slowly returned to your side, your own eyes trained on the man before you. But then you saw his hand beside your own, and your gaze slowly lowered.

You had bandaged your hand again before you gave the instruction for Mark to beat you, to make it look like he was killed in self defense. You’d done it so no one would see what you could do, so no one would know you were not who you said you were. 

But that bandage was gone, and the black mark of the Outsider was revealed to you, to the world…

To Corvo.

“Vivienne Marsh,” he began, voice gruff. “Maid of the Boyles, servant of the Moss’s, and apparently…” He raised your hand. “Marked by the Outsider himself.”

_ Fuck.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS ALWAYS...  
> thank you guys so much for reading! without yall this story wouldnt be happening and it wouldnt be getting so many updates.  
> If youre interested in listening to the playlist, the link is below!  
> https://8tracks.com/illunga/oc-amelia-walsh-1
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> comments mean the world to me. i have email notifications on, so whenever you guys leave a comment i get a notification. i always get a smile on my face and typically read comments over and over again.  
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	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader has to make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i know i left ya'll with a cliffhanger that last chapter, and i hope this chapter lives up to expectations.  
> it was a bit hard to write, but i hope ya'll enjoy it.  
> it might be a while before the next chapter comes out because i have ap tests in two weeks, and im graduating in a month! yes - im graduating high school! it's exciting but entirely terrifying.  
> so i have to get lots of work done and lots of studying. i will try to work on this when i can, but it might be a while :)  
> that being said, there aren't any major trigger warnings.  
> so... ENJOY~

 

For a few moments, you didn’t breathe. You didn’t blink. You didn’t look away.

You simply held the Royal Protector’s gaze as the two of you sat there, tucked away from the rest of the world.  If you weren’t wounded, you would have already thrown your sheets at him. You would’ve broken the window behind your bed and jumped out, sliding down the roof. You would’ve fled the Tower without a second thought.

But your ribs were fractured, and your body felt sluggish and heavy. There was no way you would be moving any time soon, nonetheless fleeing the empire.

Corvo knew that. He knew there was no possibility of you escaping, and that was why he sat in here with you and not in the dungeons. But he didn’t relax. No, he kept his hand by your own, a constant reminder that he would not hesitate to do what was necessary.

You could try to use your powers, but you were frightened of what Corvo would do if you tried. Would he cut your hand off? Would he kill you? Or would he call in the Abbey to have you tortured and branded?

In all fucking honesty, you had no idea what to do. You didn’t know if you should speak, if you should run, or if you should end your life right then and there. There were so many things you _could_ do, but none of them would work in your favor. They would either destroy you, or destroy everyone else.

Corvo looked away from you for a moment, turning his attention to your body. You looked too, noting that you were tucked in with cotton blankets. By your side, there was an I.V and a monitor, softly beeping as it counted your heartbeat. Another bag besides the I.V fluids explained why you weren’t in so much pain; it was morphine.

If you got Corvo’s attention somewhere else for long enough…

“You have two broken ribs, along with one being fractured,” said that gruff voice, and your eyes flit back to Corvo. His gaze was on the morphine drip as well, but he didn’t appear alarmed or even angry. His posture spoke of comfort, with his leg crossed over the other and one hand gently drumming at his knee. But you knew he would leap at any moment. His other hand was still by your own. “Your lung was nicked by one of your ribs, causing internal bleeding. If Guard Thompson hadn’t gotten you here when she did, you would be dead.” The man paused, eyes traveling over your arms. Your skin was littered with bruises and cuts, and you realized maybe he hadn’t thrown you away because he felt pity. Maybe he felt bad. But you didn’t dare ask.

Instead, you asked, “That’s all?”

Corvo didn’t smile, but you weren’t surprised. Instead, he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. His hand was still near yours, a subtle warning. “Who are you?”

Another stab of fear, only dulled by the drip of morphine and years of experience. You’d talked yourself out of situations before, but none at this scale. Nothing compared to this mission. You tried to clench your jaw, but the movement stung. You settled for licking your split lip instead. “I take it Vivienne Marsh won’t work?” A fool… You were a goddamn fool for being a smartass right now.

But you always were a fool.

“You stole the identity of a maid from the Boyles, and somehow managed to have the Moss family lie for you. _Why?_ ” He wasn’t letting up, and you weren’t expecting him to. He saw that you were a threat to this empire and, more importantly, to Emily. Corvo expected you to be here to kill her - to take another Empress from him. Would he expect you were actually hired to kill _him_?

You’d made a decision, however. Yes, you came here with the intention to kill him. You took the name Vivienne Marsh in hopes it would conceal you long enough so you could assassinate him. With Julius, you’d signed a paper to secure the contract and make it official. But now? After meeting Emily and seeing her kindness? After seeing the love Corvo had for his daughter the Empress?

“I’m not here to kill anyone,” you admitted. It was a quiet confession, one that was barely heard over the discussions outside the room. But it was more powerful than anything else you could have said or done. It was an admission to both Corvo and yourself that you had abandoned your contract, something you’d never done before. You had never canceled a contract, never gone back on your word. That was why you were so well known to the people of the slums; you looked out for them and in return, they looked out for you too. However, after the past day, you’d realized that killing Corvo Attano would not help those in the slums. It would cost them their safety and possibly their lives if the Moss’s got control over the Empire.

With a sigh, you slowly sat up straight. Corvo didn’t move to grab the sword that dangled at his side, or the pistol he kept holstered. Instead, he only watched you. You sat up with a wince, the movement jostling your ribs. With deep breaths, you willed away the pain.

“Explain Mark,” Corvo replied, and you shook your head, closing your eyes.

“I didn’t plan for Thompson to shove him,” you explained. “He was just hitting me and-”

“Mark didn’t do _that_.” He gestured to the entirety of your body, a hard look on his face. You furrowed your brow. What did you tell him? If you trusted him with the information around Julius, Corvo would be forced to take action. The man wouldn’t dare take a risk when it came to someone wanting to take the throne from his daughter and possibly killing her. He would get rid of Julius, and there were no doubts in your mind that Julius would take down Adelia with him. “The doctors confirmed that the bruises happened the night of the dinner with the Moss’s.” Your blood chilled, and you realized you’d clenched your hands into fists.

“What do you want?” you asked, cutting to the chase. You wouldn’t meddle with the small details of this clusterfuck. What you needed to know was why Corvo was _here_ when he could throw you in the dungeons or kick you out.

“Why are you here?”

“I’ll be killed if-”

“I’ll be forced to imprison and interrogate you if you don’t cooperate.”

You ran a hand over your face, trying to rub away the bags under your eyes.“You don’t understand,” you scoffed, and Corvo tilted his head.

“Try me.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You needed to be careful. If Julius had guards in his pocket, it would be no surprise that he’d have nurses or doctors too. And if they caught you giving up Julius…

The morphine drip wouldn’t just stop your pain.

“Take me somewhere safe,” you whispered, voice barely but a breath. “And I’ll tell you the truth.” You opened your eyes to meet Corvo’s, and you saw conflict in those brown eyes. You saw him look right past the mask you’d glued on, and you expected him to refuse. You expected him to demand you spill your guts right then and there, costing you everything.

But Corvo didn’t demand you do anything. Instead, he nodded. “I’ll arrange for you to be brought to my quarters,” he said, and a relieved sigh came from you. “If you try anything…”

A chuckle wheezed itself from your lungs, and you tossed a faint smirk Corvo’s way. “Do I look like I could try anything?” Corvo didn’t respond, and now that silence fell between you two, it was only natural for questions to arise. You remembered finding Beth being assaulted by Mark, and the rage and worry that’d arisen then returned. “Is Beth okay?” you asked, and the man nodded.

“Besides a few scratches, some bruising and trauma, yes. She’s been put on indefinite leave for the time being,” he said. You remembered the absolute terror that plagued Beth before you’d sent her away. It’d killed you to not be there for her. It’d killed you to see her go. But her face had stuck with you, and that killed you the most.

“Is she...okay?” A personal question. Maybe you shouldn’t reveal that you cared, that the reason why you were here wasn’t black and white. You saw Corvo’s eyes flicker with recognition as he sat there, crossing his arms. He could use this against you - your emotions. He could threaten their well-being to get the truth out of you, and while you planned to tell him part of the reason why you were here, you weren’t intending to reveal everything.

He would send you away, Julius would know, and everything would end.

Everything would end horribly.

“Ask her yourself. She’s outside,” Corvo replied, and your eyes flickered to the door. “With a few other worried maids.”

“Don’t we-”

“Get dressed first. Have some food, and then they’ll bring you.”

“Why? You know I’m not a maid. You know I lied to get in here.”

Corvo stood. “I know.” He turned, opening the door. Whispers suddenly hushed as he exited the room. “She’s awake.” Nobody moved or said anything, clearly waiting for his approval to enter. You smiled at Corvo’s flabbergasted expression, one so well concealed that you knew the others took it for annoyance. “You can see her.”

As soon as the words slipped from the man’s mouth, you saw your friends pile into the small room. Corvo even had to quickly step aside to avoid them.

The first one to enter was Thompson, whose face was pale and worried before seeing you. The fear melted away into relief, and a breath heaved out from her. “Thank the Void. Now you don’t look like a walking bruise,” she joked, and you rolled your eyes.

Janet pushed in from behind Thompson, eyebrows furrowed and lips thin. You were surprised to see her, not really expecting her to be worried enough to come see you. It made your heart warm. At the sight of you, she let out a low whistle. “Damn,” she hissed, rubbing her chin.

Nadette appeared to the side, her usually composed face cracking from her concern. The last time you’d seen her, she’d been angry and upset with you for not going to the guards and ratting out Julius. But any of that anger was gone as she crossed her arms, lips pursing. “You look better,” she said.

“Anything looks better than she did two days ago,” Thompson huffed, and you stiffened.

Two days? You’d been unconscious for two whole days? Your breath caught in your throat as you remembered the timeline given by Julius. That meant you only had barely over a week to uncover who was in his pocket, and to come up with a plan.  Your fingers tightened in your sheets as your thoughts raced, tumbling over each other.

The others shifted as they noticed your attitude change, looking to one another. Janet appeared as though she were going to say something when there was a shuffle from the door. Something changed in their eyes as they saw whoever was behind Thompson, eyes narrowing and lips becoming a straight line.

Thompson moved to the side, and Beth stepped forward, eyes bleak and dull. But upon seeing you, there was a light restored. The corners of her mouth curled up into a ghost of a smile, one you would gladly kill Mark over and over again to restore.

Seeing Beth so broken hurt more than any of your bruises, torn muscles and fractured bones.

Whatever plan you came up with against Julius would break him more than he broke her.

Beth’s eyes flickered over you, going from your face to your arms and back. They seemed to be stuck in a rhythm until you spoke up. “Hey Beth.” God, it was such a simple thing to say. You wanted to ask her how she was, tell her you gave Mark an awful death because of what he did to her, that you would get revenge on those responsible… But you couldn’t.

You couldn’t tell her you had a plan when you didn’t. You couldn’t bring up the attack without the possibility of triggering her.

All you could do was watch her wrap her arms around herself, shrinking back in on the skin she seemed so afraid of. “Hey.” Her voice was meek. There was no sign of the Bethany you met on your first day, the girl you befriended and cared for so much after such a short time. Your distress must have shown because Thompson cleared her throat, shifting the attention to her.

“It’s good to see you awake. The doctors weren’t sure they would be able to fix you up,” she said. Nadette elbowed the guard in the side with an incredulous look at her words, and Thompson hissed.

Confusion hit you. “What do you mean?” you asked. Corvo had expressed your injuries were bad...but were they _that_ bad?

“You had internal bleeding. By the time they got you, it was...bad,” Janet said, taking a seat in a chair nearby. She hunched over with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. There was no doubt she surely blamed herself.

“They had to do a transfusion,” Nadette added, and she shook her head. “I knew you were fucked up, but I didn’t think…” She was cut off with her own huff as she turned. “I need air.” The woman pushed through Beth and Thompson, but to your surprise Bethany didn’t follow her. Instead, she sat in the chair Corvo had been in.

Up close, you saw it. You saw the trauma on her face as though it were painted on with a brush. You saw it in the furrow of her brow, her sunken cheeks, her grey eyes, the way she picked at her nails… You began to reach for her hand, but you remembered that your mark wasn’t covered. So you stopped. You stopped moving, and simply watched Bethany suffer. “Corvo did it,” she said.

“Did what?”

Someone shifted by the door, but Bethany spoke. “He gave you the-”

Corvo stepped into view, a presence that made everyone pause turn their gaze to him. “The nurses are ready.” It was an interruption of whatever conversation you would have with Beth. He wanted to keep knowledge limited, and you supposed you couldn’t blame him.

You were an imposter in his Tower after all.

“Where are you going?” Janet asked, concern evident. Her eyes were monitoring Corvo as he stepped aside for the nurses who entered the room with a wheelchair. Thompson and Beth shared her apprehension, both eying the woman and Royal Protector.

Last time you’d left them, you’d been beaten and nearly killed.

“Somewhere safe,” you assured them, giving each of your allies pointed looks. “Corvo knows.” That was enough of a hint for them to understand. Janet hummed with approval, crossing her arms as she leaned back into her chair. Thompson simply clenched her jaw, and, to your surprise, Beth hesitantly lay her hand over yours. You felt her shaking even through the sheet that separated your skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered as the nurses prepared the wheelchair. Janet got to her feet to leave while Thompson waited for Beth. “For Mark.”

Did she know? Did she know you were responsible for his death? You tried to read her eyes but couldn’t see past the sadness and pain that plagued them. So instead you forced a smile. “And Julius will pay too.” It was a promise, and you hated making them. You hated having to do something for someone. You hated allowing them to have control over you. But you had every intention of keeping this promise. You had every intention to make Julius pay for the harm he’d done to not just you, but to every maid, every employee, every goddamn person in Dunwall. “I promise, Beth.”

A single tear fell from your friend’s eye as she stood, withdrawing her hand. Thompson reached for her, and Beth let the guard gently steer her from the room. You watched them leave, watched Thompson whisper something in Beth’s ear that made her relax.

You wanted to go with them and to tell them _everything_ , but you knew you couldn’t. Instead, you would go with Corvo to his quarters and tell _him_ everything. Maybe he would understand better than they would. Maybe he wouldn’t rat you out to the Abbey and have you branded. Maybe you two could work together in stopping Julius. There was so much power shared between you two, and maybe it would be enough to kill Julius and his influence.

There were so many ‘maybes’ in your brain, but you knew one thing for sure as the nurses wheeled you out of the room.

Your life was in Corvo’s hands, and there was nothing you could to change that.

You’d anticipated the Royal Protector meeting you in his quarters, but instead he walked with you and the nurses down the hallway. “I don’t think I’m gonna run away,” you joked as the man walked a few paces in front of you, hands tucked behind his back. He walked with the posture of a noble, but there was something more casual to him. The air around him wasn’t frigid like it was around folk who’d been protected and tended to their entire lives.

Corvo’s eyebrows raised as he tossed you a look from the corner of his eyes. “I’m not concerned of running.” Your left hand hummed with the mention of your powers, and you clenched your fingers into a fist. Corvo noticed, a small smirk on his lips. You forced your gaze away as you looked out the windows.

Two days… You’d been unconscious for two days from the injuries you’d sustained. But based on the pure _exhaustion_ you’d felt before you’d fainted after Mark, you knew it wasn’t just because of that. Whatever powers you possessed had a limit, and when you’d controlled that disgusting man, you’d hit that wall.

So much had happened, and none of it was planned. You didn’t plan to be beat by Julius and to kill Mark. You didn’t plan for the Outsider to mark you. But here you were…being wheeled down a hallway to talk with Corvo about the shit you’d gotten yourself into.

It was raining outside, and you found yourself counting the drops on the window’s glass. It was comforting to think that wherever Adelia was, it was surely raining too. You both were counting the raindrops, musing about the worries of yesterday and the threats of tomorrow.

Her threats were tests and schoolmates. Your threats were much bigger.

Your threats would become _everyone’s_ threat soon enough. They would cost people their lives, their dignity, their _happiness…_

“We’re here.” Corvo’s words snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked from the windows to the door at the end of the hallway. It was made of fine wood that could surely withstand a breach, and you watched the Royal Protector unlock the door.

So many questions raced through your head and made your heart thump erratically as the nurses wheeled you into the man’s quarters. The room was large, with one section housing a bedroom and the other being the living space. There were plush couches with a coffee table holding scattered papers, old coffee and pens. But other than that, it was surprisingly sparse. You’d expected a man as well paid as him to have a lavishly decorated bedroom.

Then again, when had Corvo been like any other man?

The nurses wheeled you over to the couches, and you raised a hand, gesturing you were good where you were. They probably wanted to seat you on the couch, but that would only restrict movement.

“Leave us,” Corvo ordered, and the nurses nodded before leaving the room. You watched Corvo stroll in front of the windows, not turning his back to you. You didn’t blame him for keeping an eye on you, but did he _really_ think you would get up and run? It was hard enough to breathe.

What would you say? What story would you spin? Would you tell him you were some journalist, some disgraced maid? Or would you tell him the truth?

_The truth would cost not just your life, but dozens others._

So you took in a deep breath, looked behind to check the nurses were gone, and said, “It’s Julius. He hired me to come in here and...watch you.” Corvo stiffened, eyebrows pulling together into a frown. You saw the fingers on his left hand twitch, and you felt a familiar pull at your chest. It was the same pull you’d felt when you saw Adelia in the Void, when you saw Corvo’s head roll, when you met the Outsider… It was an attraction, a desire, a nauseating _need…_ You let that need push the words out of your mouth. “He wanted me to get your schedule down, get to know you and-”

“What about Emily?” Those fingers twitched again, and you understood. You felt the pull. He would end you in _seconds_ if he perceived you as a threat, if you had information that could kill not him but _Emily._

And again - you couldn’t blame him. You would do the same for Adelia. You would do _anything_ for Adelia.

“I would never hurt her,” you said, and that was the truth. You’d been spewing half lies, but this was the whole truth. You rubbed your hand over your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m poor. My entire family died and I was left to raise my sister. I needed the money, and he told me I could make more getting information than I could beg for in my entire life,” you whispered. “I wasn’t supposed to be noticed. But...”

“He beat you.” No question. Just the fact.

“Yes. Then…” You unclenched your left fist.

“The Outsider came.”

“And gave me his _gift.”_ A dry chuckle came from the man, and you felt another tug at your chest. Foolishly, you asked, “What...what can you do?”

Corvo arched a brow before facing you, hands still behind his back. “How did you know?” It was left unsaid, and maybe that was for the best. While Julius was a large threat, the Abbey was a bigger one.

“You can feel my power, can’t you?” Corvo didn’t move, but understanding flickered in his eyes. You cleared your throat as you leaned into your wheelchair. “Plus, the Outsider kind of hinted it.”

The Royal Protector’s frown deepened, but there was no real anger or malice there. There was only annoyance, and you suppressed a snicker.

But the Outsider wasn’t the real issue here. The Outsider didn’t bring you to the Tower, and he didn’t hire you to kill Corvo. No, Julius had, and while you were guilty, he was the enemy. Not Corvo.

“I know I’m not supposed to be here,” you began, voice quiet and raw. You felt Corvo’s full attention. You saw it in the rigidness of his body. He was taut, ready to spring. And maybe you would be too if your body wasn’t so destroyed. “ _I know_. But Julius told me he plans to kill you, and the Void knows what he plans to do once you’re gone,” you said.

The man narrowed his eyes at the threat of the throne, and your heart stuttered. “Are you helping him?” he asked, voice low. You knew he would end you. You knew he would kill you in a heartbeat to keep Emily safe. You knew.

So you rolled your wheelchair past the table, the couches, and to the windows Corvo stood in front of. But your gaze never moved, never wavered.

You wouldn’t kill Corvo. You wouldn’t help Julius. “No. I’m not helping him. He did this to me, and he’ll do it to others. He’ll do it to Emily, to my sister…” The thought of Adelia made your stomach churn, and you swallowed a gag. “I don’t know what I’m going to do or _how_ I’m going to do it, but something needs to happen. If not…” It was left unsaid, but understood. Corvo nodded before crossing his arms in front of him, rubbing a hand over his chin.

A thousand thoughts flashed over Corvo’s face as he stood there, and you were sure you appeared the same. Would he spare you? Would he cast you away?

The last thing you expected to hear from the man was, “Alright. I’ll look into Julius and his ties. You need to rest.”

You leaned forward. “Let me help,” you hissed and Corvo looked mildly amused. “I know how to go unnoticed, and he still thinks I’m working with him. We need to do this quietly and I can get information on his allies without raising suspicion. The last thing we need is for one of us to be hurt again.”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to make demands.” There was no true malice in his words, but it still made you scowl.

“You’re right - I’m not. I’m at your mercy. But Julius threatened to kill my younger sister, so it’s only fair I have a say in what happens,” you snarled, praying that the man would listen to you. You weren’t sure if he’d grown up with a younger sibling, or if he had any siblings at all. But he was a father, and he knew how it felt to have the ones you loved threatened.

With a grunt, Corvo crossed the room and approached the desk by his bed. Reaching down, he pulled out some papers and quickly signed them. “You’re off breakfast duty and cleaning.”

You hummed. “Alright, now it just seems like you hate me,” you huffed and Corvo stood back up, tucking his pen to the side.

“Quite the opposite. You now spend your day training, and serving dinner,” he said, and you cocked your head, eyebrows raised. _What the hell?_ The man turned to face you, that serious look still on his face. You wondered what he was thinking, what he was planning…

“Training? Isn’t that gonna be a little bit...suspicious?” you asked.

A smirk curled his lips. “Not when you’re cleaning in here.”

Confusion hit you at first, but with a glance around, you realized what Corvo meant. All the papers, coffee cups, ink stains…

“Ah, fuck.”

Thankfully, Corvo promised that you’d have increased pay, but it didn’t compare to the coin Julius promised. You were anxious with worry over whether or not you were making the right call for yourself, but quickly realized you were making the right choice for others. This was only solidified when Corvo pulled out a pocket watch, briefly revealing the picture of Emily he tucked in it.

“You need to rest,” he’d said after checking the time, rubbing his face. “We’ll start training after tomorrow.”

Was that enough time for your injuries to completely heal? No. But it was enough time for the bruising to go down and for you to not feel like complete shit. The two of you didn’t speak much, but he did offer to roll you back to the infirmary. You’d declined after stating that you were injured, not helpless.

He’d smirked. Outsider, did the man smile?

Corvo still escorted you to the infirmary, surely fearful that Julius would make another appearance. The fucker didn’t and you knew why. He thought you were still going to kill Corvo, that he’d instilled enough fear to keep you in his control.

But you were hard to kill, and you were even harder to control.

You were briefly worried about Corvo insisting there be guards posted outside your room. The man was constantly casting paranoid gazes around the two of you, hands occasionally twitching. All worries faded at the sight of your friends, still waiting outside your door.

Janet was gone, surely to make dinner, but everyone else remained. Nadette’s eyes were on you the moment you wheeled yourself through the doors of the infirmary, blue irises piercing and harsh. It didn’t take long for her to piece together the jist of your meeting with Corvo, and she appeared pleased if not skeptical.

Beth was sitting far from the others, bent over herself on a chair. When she saw you, however, she stood with curious eyes. Thompson had been watching her, and the girl’s movement turned her attention to you. Without word, the guard insisted on helping you into bed and took over wheelchair duty.

Corvo didn’t say anything as Thompson whisked you away. With a glance behind, you saw him lingering by the doors. Another tug pulled at your chest, the same chilling sensation of the void raising the hairs on your neck. Maybe you were losing your sanity as many did with the Void, but you swore you saw a glow under the wrappings of his left hand. The burn in your own left hand answered your question.

“What happened?” Thompson hissed as she ushered the others into your room, Beth taking a seat beside your bed and Nadette seated beside her.

You huffed a sigh at her immediately pouncing you. As much as it pained you to say, you were tired. You felt old and weak at admitting it, but the injuries and your powers had taken a serious toll on your body. You definitely needed the rest Corvo recommended. “I told Corvo about Julius, and he hired me as a personal maid,” you said, leaving out the very illegal plan to spy on the court and possibly break into buildings.

Nadette hummed, eyes narrowing. “Interesting…” She seemed in thought, and based on the tapping of her fingers, you didn’t want to know what was on her mind.

Beth shifted anxiously, eyes worried. “Will...Will ya still work breakf’st?” You were happy to hear accent again, the sound of her voice warming your chest. You wanted to reach for her hand and reassure her that while no, you wouldn’t work breakfasts. she would still be safe. Could you guarantee that, though?

“I’ll ask Corvo to assign Thompson to breakfast duty until we resolve the situation with Julius,” you cooly replied. Beth still looked worried, but not quite as fearful. A quick glance to Thompson showed the guard nodding, agreeing to your idea. You hadn’t necessarily anticipated the two of you being friends, and stumbling into her on your way to the kitchen two days ago was pure luck. But you were thankful for her.

“What comes with the duty of being his maid?” Nadette asked, and you caught the suggestion hanging at the tips of her words. You shot a look her way.

“Planning on how to kill Julius and his lackeys,” you bit out through your teeth. Nadette turned her gaze wholly onto you now, blue eyes cold. Despite her insinuation, it was obvious she meant no harm. She’d clearly been upset over your injuries and about her absence when you fought against Mark. Was she worried Corvo would put you back in the way of harm?

“How?” Beth asked. Thompson shifted in the corner, clearly interested while Nadette still seemed wary.

“I can’t say.” Beth deflated a bit at that, worry coming back to shine on her face. Thompson huffed.

“Well, how long until Beth is safe again?” The guard demanded.

“She should be safe now that Mark’s gone. _You_ should be more worried, Thompson. Julius isn’t gonna like you were at the crime scene,” you said, but the woman merely snorted.

“Let him try. I didn’t go through five years of training just to be taken down by some aristocrat's son,” she hissed.

You glowered. “He took me down and I grew up in the slums, Thompson.” And you killed people for a living, but you left that part out.

Thompson seemed to get the message, thankfully, and leaned back with narrowed eyes. “Whatever… I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but Julius has people everywhere. I need you guys to look out for each other for the next two weeks while Corvo and I work on this. I’ll talk to him about maybe getting you a personal guard, Beth-”

“Thompson,” Beth interrupted, eyes not moving from her lap. You sat there, confused as to what she meant. Thompson was as well, arching a brow at Beth. She seemed to notice, shifting while clearing her throat as she looked up. “I’d like Thompson to be my guard.”

Everyone looked over to the woman, who had her attention on Beth. Her eyes were wide with surprise, cheeks subtly painted pink underneath her various, scattered freckles. She simply stared at Beth for a moment before coughing, addressing you. “Yeah, sure, sounds good. I’m in.”

You nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to Corvo about it the next time I see him. Until then, Corvo suggested taking some time off… Both of you,” you said, referring to both Beth and Thompson. “Relax, sleep… Read a book, maybe visit family. But please stay low. I don’t want Julius to come after you,” you pleaded, holding the eyes of your two friends. “And Nadette... “ Your other friend perked up at the mention of her name. “Keep your eyes and ears out.”

Her lips curled. “Am I the spy?” she mused, and you smirked.

“Who better for the job?” You saw the intrigue in her eyes, and you knew she would be good at gathering information. Natalia said she picked no favorites, but it was obvious Nadette was preferred. She worked dinners, which was often for the higher ranking maids, she also worked Court duty. Her schedules showcased that she was exceptional, and because of that, she would hear whatever was to be said. Oftentimes no one even looked her way, not wanting to piss off the ‘Ice Queen’.

“So, we got a spy-” Thompson began, gesturing to Nadette. “A maid-” A gesture to Beth. “A guard.” A raise of her hand. “And a…?” It was a question. They knew you weren’t a maid. They knew there was more to you. How else was Mark killed? Why else did Julius target you? And why else would Corvo take you on as his personal assistant?

You shrugged. “A girl from the slums.”

Beth smiled.

Beth was oftentimes by your side as you recovered. The two of you didn’t talk much, but her company was enough. Thompson visited every other hour, offering some new, funny story of what her day held. She’d ignored your plea for time off, but had thankfully taken your warnings of being cautious to heart.

“I brought my extra pistol to work,” she’d proudly declared, entering the room with a bang. She’d woken you up, and Beth had even been startled. “So that way if any one of Julius’s punks try to kill me, I can shoot them twice now!”

You’d congratulated her for being capable of killing twice, and Beth had begged for her to not go. “I can’t lose ya,” she’d whispered.

“You won’t,” Thompson replied.

Corvo had agreed for Thompson to escort Bethany and check in on her every other hour while allowing the guard to perform her duties. When Thompson wasn’t with her, you were. And while you were injured, you could still fight. Mark’s death proved that.

Thompson took Beth to breakfast, then lunch, and then dinner. They oftentimes returned later than what was scheduled, and you quickly realized they were taking walks together after eating. It was after dinner did you see the sharp edges of Beth’s broken soul begin to dull. She slept easier that night, curled up on two chairs pushed together.

Nadette didn’t visit until the moon was high in the sky, catching you drifting off. Her sudden appearance made you clench your left hand into a fist, but the sight of her blue eyes had reassured you that it was _her,_ and not one of Julius’s pawns. She’d offered a shaky smile in an apology, softly closing the door behind her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she whispered. “I just had some information.”

She told you about how one maid came in, lip split and eye swollen after Julius had requested her for dinner the previous night. She’d been sobbing about how he’d screamed at her, asked her who she was working for. When she’d insisted on no one, he beat her. “Sooner or later, he’s going to find out about your relations with Corvo,” Nadette warned.

“I know what to say,” you’d insisted, but Nadette arched a brow.

“He’s unstable. Your plan better be quick, or he’ll come after you. And he learned his lesson last time about _mercy._ ” There’d been understanding in her eyes when she spoke. She knew what mistakes were, and what could be lost to one. You’d thought of Adelia, Emily, Beth…

“It’ll be done is less than two weeks,” you’d assured her, but she hadn’t looked reassured. She’d simply bit her lip and rest her hands in her lap. Nadette was so poised all the time. She was rigid and fraught, angles and skin so sharp you were afraid she’d cut you. But at the same time, there was a coy underside to her. It lingered in the smirks, the fleeting looks, the absolutely normal but stunning appearance she held.

“They were also talking about a mysterious woman being seen with the Royal Protector.” The corners of her lips had turned up, eyes looking up at you from under her brow. You’d smiled too, and Nadette told you a few more details before laying a blanket over Beth and leaving.

You’d slept in hour periods, waking from nightmares and Beth shaking. Thompson had said right after you were brought here, she woken up screaming. But now she simply shook and whimpered. It still made you flush with anger, but you saw that she was healing.

The same routine followed the next day with Thompson bursting in to pronounce she now sported a _third_ pistol. When you asked where she kept finding weapons, she’d simply smiled.

Their schedule had been nearly the same as the day prior, with Thompson taking Beth to various meals and on walks. To your surprise, Beth even took a bath. “I was starting to smell,” she’d joked, and you’d assured her she hadn’t.

She had, but you didn’t mind.

It was after dinner did Thompson drop off Beth, the guard grinning with windswept hair and Beth’s cheeks pink. You’d closed your book, one that Nadette had stolen from a fellow maid. “What did you two get up to?” you’d asked, but before they could respond there was a knock on the door.

Thompson had grabbed one her three pistols, shushing you both. Her body had been taut and ready to pounce, but when she cracked the door open she heaved a curse and welcomed Corvo into the room. The last time you’d seen him he’d looked dishevelled and tired, but he had thankfully shaven. He still looked tired, but you assumed that was a constant state for the man.

“I have matters to discuss,” he’d excused, but you knew better. You knew there was no meeting. And Outsider’s cock, you were ready to get out of this goddamn room. Beth had dressed you while he waited outside, Thompson giving you a long lecture on how to shoot and spar. You knew how to do it all, but you humored her.

“Be safe,” Beth had begged.

You’d smiled and rested a hand on her own. “I will be.”

And that was how you ended up on the roof of Dunwall Tower with Corvo Attano.

Your body still hurt, and moving too fast hurt your ribs. But you felt much better after resting for a solid day, and Corvo seemed pleased with your recovery.

“You seem better,” he said, clearly trying to start a conversation as the two of you climbed up to the roof. When the two of you had first climbed out of the windows, Corvo had been hesitant with climbing. But after the first moments of you getting your footing and grabbing a hold, he clearly understood you knew what you were doing.

You _had_ grown up in the slums.

“I feel better,” you replied, watching the man easily jump up a few tiles beside you. You quickly adjusted your pace, scaling beside him. He noticed, shooting a look your way.

“Good. Let’s train then.” That was the end of the conversation. It was evident as he looked above, raising his left hand. That tug came back to your core, leaving you breathless as the Void came so close. It brushed against your skin, it raised the hair on your neck, and it made your blood _hum._

There was a light from Corvo’s mark, still hidden under a glove. And then he was gone.

The sudden disappearance of the Void left you aching, and chest hollow. Your eyes were still on where Corvo had been moments ago, not quite comprehending what the hell had just happened. It was only when you heard a chuckle from above did you move.

With a gasp, you saw Corvo standing at the top of the roof. He was looking down at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You realized he could teleport just like you, and the revelation made a grin stretch your face. _That_ was why he brought you here. He wanted to help you learn your powers and how to utilize them. The Outsider knew Julius was a threat, so in response, he gave you his mark.

He’d done the same for Corvo.

But when had he given Corvo his gift? And why?

You didn’t have much time to think as Corvo shouted over the wind, “Use your powers!” There were no other hints, no other suggestions. There was just a simple command, and he stepped back, disappearing from your view.

You hung there for a moment, simply letting the wind push and pull. You could stay there for the entire night. Shit, you’d spent many nights hanging from roofs that were stories above the ground. But your injuries made you tire more easily, and as you hung there, you felt exhaustion beginning to weave itself into your muscles.

So with a deep breath, you looked up towards the roof. You could feel the Void skimming underneath your veins, feel it cooing and singing. It was always there, a reminder of what you could do if you learned your potential. If you knew what your powers were, if you knew how to use them…

_I think you know._

You knew how to do this.

You reached past your lungs, past your ribs and past your heart… You reached into the part of you that no one knew of. The Void dwelled there, stirring and festering. It sang as you touched the Void, as you willed it to replace your blood, your cells, your thoughts, and every part of you.

And when you felt your mark flare, you made the world bend.

Using your powers in the Void was different. There, nothing worked like it did here. In the Void, up was down and down was up. Whatever the Outsider wanted, it happened.

But here, you felt yourself shift until you were nothing but the world itself. You saw all, you felt all, and you _were_ all. You saw through the roof into the staircase that led to the top. And you knew you could go there if you wanted. It would be simple. You would just have to aim, and pull.

But that wasn’t where you wanted to go. You looked up to where Corvo had disappeared to, and saw him waiting for you. Granted, it was a rather odd view. You didn’t see the floor of where he stood, instead seeing the soles of his boots. And when you aimed for Corvo, you felt his heartbeat.

It thrummed, and you gave yourself to it. No longer were you _you._ You were the rush of his blood, the fear at his heels, and the love for his daughter. You reached for him, and pulled to be closer.

When you felt the Void retreat to the depths of your chest, you breathed. The air played with your hair, kissing you sweat covered skin as you opened your eyes. Dunwall stretched before your view, dark but glorious under the moon’s glow. A breathless laugh came from you as you looked around, mystified by the beauty of the night.

A wave of lightheadedness caught you off guard, however, and you stumbled. Thankfully, a hand grabbed your wrist and kept you from falling to your death. “Careful,” Corvo hummed, and you looked behind you. He blended into the darkness, almost lost to the shadows. Out here, he belonged here. He belonged to the night and its potential. In the Tower, he looked out of place and uncomfortable.

How could you have ever thought you could kill him?

“Sorry,” you replied, and Corvo let your wrist go. “I’ve never done that before.”

The pale moonlight illuminated Corvo’s knowing smile. “It’s alright. It’s disorienting,” he said in response. “The first time is the worst, but it’s an essential skill. Although yours…” He stepped back, analyzing you with a furrowed brow. “You’re different.”

You crossed your arms, tilting a head. “How so?” you asked.

Corvo shifted on his feet, angling his body past you. He lifted his hand, clenching it. “I can only move within the bounds of a room,” he said before disappearing. You felt the Void brush past your skin as you turned, seeing the man a ways away. But before you could approach him, he reappeared by your side. “You can move through walls.”

You remembered what you felt when you’d teleported. You could see everything around you within a certain range. You weren’t limited to the boundaries of walls while Corvo was. That made you cockily smirk. “So I’m better than you,” you teased, and Corvo gave you a long look, the corners of his lips twitching.

“Let’s see,” he said, and you grinned as he turned and walked away. You followed him, falling into pace beside the man. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. Being around the man you were hired to kill naturally came with anxiety, and you were still unsure of whether or not Corvo would spare your life. Maybe he was keeping you around simply because it would jeopardize his chances to get Julius if he killed you.

You didn’t know why he kept you alive. After Jessamine, you’d thought he’d be brutal and heartless. You would be if the love of your life was killed in front of you. But you tried not to dwell on it as the two of you approached the ledge of the roof. Corvo approached it without fear while you were cautious, stopping a few steps away.

Corvo pointed down below, and you peered over the edge. There was a platform a story or two down, and you arched a brow up to Corvo. “Use your powers to get onto that platform,” he commanded, and you frowned now.

“Why?” you dared to ask, and Corvo narrowed his eyes at you. “Hey, if this is training I should know what I’m training for.”

Corvo sighed before squatting, gesturing to the skyline. “Having these powers allows you to do inhuman things. You can go through walls while I can cover gaps. Combine all your abilities, and you’ll be unstoppable,” he explained, and you watched him for a moment. The wind ruffled his hair, and he looked younger crouching there. You wondered how he’d learned all of this...what forced him to this roof and made him grow into a bigger threat than Julius could ever realize.

“What other powers do you have?” you asked.

Another phantom smile. “You’ll see,” he hummed, and you rolled your eyes with a sigh You realized he was waiting for you to crouch beside him, to signal that you understood and agreed. If you walked away, that would be the end of...whatever this was. Was it training? Was it recruitment? Or was it just some way to see how much value you had?

You bit your lip, looking back to the skyline of Dunwall. There were boats out in the harbor, slowly drifting away from the city. Where they were going was a mystery, and you hoped one day you would be on one.

You hoped that when you finally left, it wouldn’t crash like it had years ago. You hoped Adelia would be safe, that you would be free…

So you crouched down beside Corvo.

“Alright, where do we start?”

That phantom smile returned, and you found yourself smiling with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENJOY WHAT YOU READ?
> 
> LEAVE A COMMENT!  
> i love hearing your thoughts. feedback is always appreciated, and i love to answer questions or just interact with ya'll.
> 
> LEAVE KUDOS!  
> kudos help get this story recognized! it's also a great way to motivate us writers ;)
> 
> AND MOST IMPORTANTLY~~~
> 
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT!!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You learn more about yourself, and others...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS - THE LONG AWAITED UPDATE~!  
> I am so sorry for this taking forever, but life has honestly been very demanding. I finished driver's training, took AP exams and have officially finished my final year of high school!  
> Wow - we have come a long way huh? I started writing little Attack on Titan fanfiction and now here I am with these sprawling pieces of work. Granted, my tendency for angst in stories has remained. 
> 
> IN FACT- today I am graduating from high school! Today I walk and get my diploma. In all honesty, these stories have kept me going throughout high school. My stories tackle topics of abuse and depression and suicide because these are real-world issues. I struggle with all of this and I got through it. I never thought I'd live to be 16, nonetheless 18 and graduating.  
> So if you're struggling, keep pushing. Take it day by day, and eventually you'll have made it through another year, and then another and another. Find things that make it easier and is healthy - like writing. Pour your heart into something you love. And keep living!  
> I managed to do this - and you can too. <3
> 
> I've decided that I will update once a month on the final day of the month. So for June, I will update on the 30th!  
> I hope you guys like this chapter. It might be a bit rough because this was challenging to write - but there is A LOT to uncover here. I spent a lot of time fleshing out the reader's powers, and she's very powerful. Her abilities revolve around escaping situations, such as with her manipulation tactic, warping ability and now this new ability...  
> Keep that in mind when reading!  
> AND NOW I PRESENT TO YOU -  
> the newest chapter!  
> TRIGGERS:  
> talks of abuse  
> foul language  
> ENJOY~!

 

The next day, you and Beth moved back into the maid quarters. Corvo assured you that they were safe and secure, but you were more worried about Beth than your own personal safety. She hadn’t left the infirmary except when she was with Thompson and while she was still on leave, no longer would she be behind countless doors and nurses of the infirmary. The maid’s quarters were nowhere near as safe. 

“There will be heightened patrols in that wing,” Corvo assured you, but a sly look from you had him sighing. “I’ve only assigned guards that have been vetted. There won’t be any of Julius’s men near there.”

You knew he had worked hard. When the two of you were done training the night prior, he’d immediately gone back to paperwork. In fact, you were sure it wasn’t a coincidence that the two of you had trained around the barracks. He was surely keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. What that looked like you didn’t know, and you were more concerned about figuring out who Julius was associated with. Corvo could worry about guards, and you could focus on who was in cahoots with the Moss family. 

And once you found out who was involved, Corvo could jail them, kill them, whatever. You didn’t care. As long as Julius was no longer a threat you didn’t care where he ended up. If Adelia was safe and everyone else, then who gave a damn? 

Despite all of your reassurances that she was safe, Beth was terrified as the two of you walked down familiar hallways. You had carefully avoided passing the main stairway as you didn’t want to risk triggering Beth’s trauma. It took longer to get back to the Maid quarters, but you didn’t mind. You weren’t assigned any duties until noon, and even if you had duties before then you’d still risk a write-up if it meant making Beth feel safe.

You held the girl’s hand as you walked with her back to the quarters, taking slow but steady steps with her. Her eyes flit nervously around, constantly licking her lips out of fear. You felt her body tense whenever there was the sound of someone in the distance, and every time you rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb to reassure her that she was okay. 

“Mark’s dead,” you whispered to her, something that always soothed her. You traced her knuckles. “He can’t hurt you ever again.”

“What about th’ others?” she asked, voice trembling. She knew that Julius controlled Mark and she knew that Julius controlled others. Shit, even  _ you  _ were afraid of Julius. So how could you tell Beth she was safe when you knew she wasn’t? 

“Thompson has three pistols… I think you’re safer than anyone else here,” you replied, and Beth’s lips curled up into a ghost of a smile. Her own thumb rubbed over your hand, tracing your knuckles, veins, before resting on the mark.

Did she know? There was no real indication that she did as the two of you continued walking. Maybe she just wanted comfort, a reassurance that she was here and not in that musty storage closet. And you could do just that - you could provide the comfort she seeked. You could remind her that she was okay, that Mark would never hurt her again. But you couldn’t give honesty. You couldn’t give the truth. 

So you just gave her your hand as the two of you returned to the quarters. 

Corvo had lived up to his promise of more patrols. As the two of you walked down the hallway to your quarters, two guards stood near the door. When they saw you, they inspected your appearance before stepping aside to allow entry. The sight made Beth relax considerably, a long, loud exhale coming from the girl. 

You were happy to see her not so frightened, and you hoped that the road ahead of her would allow her to heal and grow. You, on the other hand, hoped that the road ahead would allow you to end Julius’s life.

With a deep breath, you rubbed Beth’s hand one last time before opening the door to the quarters. Most girls would be gone, assigned to other duties such as cleaning or serving lunch. However, there were still a few girls in the room and their heads slowly turned to look at both you and Beth. To your surprise, Nadette was one of them.

She stood at the sight of you two, as beautiful as always with her sharp and pale face hosting narrow eyes. 

Bethany withdrew from your grasp at the sight of her friend, and Nadette walked from her bed to her. She hesitantly stopped a few steps away from the girl, unsure if she was comfortable with the space being breached. But Beth gingerly wrapped her arms around the blonde, an act that surprised both of you. “I haven’t seen you in forever,” Beth breathed and Nadette rolled her eyes, reaching up to return the hug.

“It’s been a day, and besides, you go to sleep early,” Nadette sighed.

“You visit at _ midnight, _ ” Beth snorted.

The redhead pulled back, looking at Nadette. Her eyes seemed lost in thought, wanting to find something to lock onto but instead finding nothing. Nadette understood though, slowly reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Beth’s ear. It immediately fell back into her face, and she smiled. “You look better,” Nadette said and Beth shrugged.

“Not saying much,” she sighed and you shook your head, walking past the two of them towards your bed. You wanted to get out of your clothes and take a bath before you had maid duty. But as you approached your bed, you found numerous scraps of paper and random pieces of food. A frown scrunched up your face as you approached, setting down the bag of clothing you’d had over the past few days.

An array of papers littered your bed and as you sat the end, you reached for one. It was old, well-worn parchment and as you opened it, wet ink stained it. The words were rushed and for a moment you feared it was a threat from Julius. You feared it was a ransom letter and your heart seized, your mark flared and-

_ Dear Vivienne, _

_ Thank you for looking out for us. We will look out for you. _

_ -A fellow maid. _

Wait...what? Was this a... _ thank you  _ letter?

You furrowed your brow in confusion, reading over the words again and again. You must’ve misread. It made no sense that someone would be thanking you for killing Mark. You looked up and saw Nadette looking over at you, a small smirk on her lips. A nod to your side made you look over and remember the dozen other letters.

You couldn’t help it… You grabbed each letter and opened it, expecting a threat, a curse, something negative in response to your assassination of Mark. But every note was thanking you. Some told you their stories of Mark harassing them, of how he would threaten their jobs and lives if they ever told anyone. Others told you of how he targeted their friends and how terrifying it was to watch their friend slowly deteriorate. 

Footsteps approached you, and you looked up to see your blonde friend. She had a knowing look as she assessed the letters, nodding to herself. “You’re a hero to them,” she said, and it wasn’t a question. It was a statement - one that she herself believed in. 

“They’re foolish to think that,” you huffed, tossing them to the side of your bed. You were no hero - you were a killer. People gave you money so you’d murder someone for them. Heroes saved people. You? You killed them. “I’m not a hero.”

“Tell Beth that,” Nadette whispered, causing you to move your gaze towards the girl. She was simply standing in front of her bed, looking at it without moving. You saw her fingers clench and unclench in a constant pattern. It repeated on end until Nadette turned, saying, “You saved her. You’re her hero.”            

A pause, and then she left you to approach Beth’s side, gingerly pressing a hand against her back. You watched her jump from fear before relaxing when she realized it was Nadette, sweat evident on her skin. You saw the shakes of her body as she returned to where she lay night after night of enduring Mark’s harassment. 

Trauma was a bitch. It nipped at your heels no matter how many times you evaded it, no matter how fast you ran. It was a constant reminder of what you survived. It took lots of convincing to remember that’s what mattered - that you survived.

And by killing Mark, Beth and numerous other girls survived. Now they could heal and deal with trauma one day at a time. No longer would they have to keep running. No longer would they live in fear of the awful man. They could now sleep and eat and  _ live.  _

It was with that knowledge did you gather all the notes. You moved them to where your pillow lay. A quick check revealed that your knife was still in its place, along with the picture of Adelia you forever kept close. With a weight in your chest, you picked up the photo and traced the lines of your sister’s face.

You hoped she was safe. You hoped she was happy and learning more than you could ever begin to imagine. And you hoped that no matter how this ended, she would love you as you loved her. One last trace... one last feeling of emotion and you grouped the notes and picture together to hide under your pillow. They lay beside your knife, a constant reminder of who you killed for.

With the image of Adelia in your mind, you grabbed all the food people offered you and moved to Beth’s bed. She was sitting on the edge, eyes in a faraway place. Nadette had left to report for cleaning, leaving the girl alone. You would leave her soon too. You had to.

You took a seat next to your friend, offering a bagel someone had given you. She looked at the food with blank eyes. “I heard one of the maids stole this from Natalia,” you whispered. Beth’s eyes had some light restored at your mysterious words, and you smiled at the sight. “You know it’s good shit if that waspy bitch had it.” The word made Beth’s lips curl up, her cheeks pink and finally…

Finally she  _ laughed _ . It was a sound you had taken for granted merely a week prior. You had thought Beth was so happy and carefree, so naive and innocent. But you knew now she wasn’t. There was darkness in her veins, but her laughter willed it away.

The girl reached up and took the bagel from you, inspecting it for a moment before taking a bite. Whatever she tasted made her eyes flutter shut as she let out a soft moan at the taste, a noise that made you throw your head back and laugh. As she swallowed the food, she looked at you with a wild smile on her face. “That’s a good fuckin bagel,” she said, and another laugh tore itself from your throat. 

Beth laughed too, a soft giggle that eventually grew into raucous laughter. You fell against the girl’s side as you giggled, and Beth wrapped her arm around you as she buried her head into your arm. The two of you laughed for a while, just giggling and chuckling as you held each other.

Eventually, the laughter died down. But Beth didn’t move and neither did you. Her head still rest on your shoulder. Your own head laid on hers, your hand coming up to brush her hair. 

And suddenly, she began to shake again, soft chuckles against your clothing. But your sleeve grew wet as her laughs grew into sobs, wild and uncontrolled as she let her emotions take hold. 

But you didn’t push her away. You didn’t ignore her. Instead, you turned. Beth pulled back with a tear stained face, eyes red and chest heaving. You felt something break in you as she cried... something so violent and important in you that it left you feeling empty. With a hiss, you pulled the redhead into your grasp and those tears spilled.

They wet your shoulder, your face, your neck… But you didn't care. You simply let Beth sob, simply let her  _ feel and break  _ without fear of being punished. Because you would never hurt her. You would never break her.

So you simply held her. 

 

Walking through the hallways in your uniform felt odd. No longer did you feel as though you were playing a part. Instead, you felt liberated with the knowledge you no longer had to hide from Corvo. He knew you weren’t a maid. He knew you were something... _ someone  _ more. 

Of course you still had to act as a maid in front of others. No one else knew you were an imposter besides Corvo and Julius. Surely his guards also knew of your identity, but if they showed any recognition of you, it would only damage them. Now that you were working with Corvo, you could easily track down guards and root out the corruption.

While you weren’t sure of the plan, you had an idea of what had to be done.

Corvo had other ideas.

“You want me to clean and train? Not find those working with Julius and ya know... _ stop them? _ ” you asked, incredulous. You were standing by his desk as he signed papers, slumped over and obviously tired. At your question, he ran a hand across his face with a deep sigh.

He swivelled in his chair, fixing you with a hard stare. Many had been crippled with that pointed gaze, but not you. You simply crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. Corvo released a hefty sigh at the sight. “We can’t afford Julius thinking anything was out of the ordinary. If he got word you were aimlessly strolling the hallways, he’d knew something was off. Stay here and train. Let me figure out who’s trustworthy and not,” Corvo said and you begrudgingly agreed.

Corvo was right - you needed the element of surprise to stop Julius. If he knew you were gearing up to kill him and that he’d been exposed, he’d use brute force on this tower to get what he wanted. He’d kill everyone. 

“Alright… I’ll stay here and train while you figure out who’s Julius’s bitch,” you hummed and Corvo seemed to nod, appreciating your agreement. “How long do you think it’ll take?” you found yourself asking, worry obvious. 

Corvo took notice as clenched his jaw. “I have connections. Right now, they’re keeping their ears out for talk and eyes out for trouble.”

You snorted. “That’s all?” You needed to do more. You needed to follow Julius and see who he interacted with, where he did it and when. You needed to figure out who was working with him. You needed to ensure Emily would not lose her throne and Adelia would not be killed.

Outsider’s cock you dug yourself deep into shit this time.

Corvo didn’t seem any more pleased than you at the lack of options. The bags under his eyes only reinforced your suspicions. “Right now, yes. But Julius still thinks you’re working with him. He won’t be expecting you to be working with me.”

Cold shock blistered your veins as you realized what Corvo meant. Julius would come to you sooner or later for an update. And when he did, what would you say? What would you do? Your fear must’ve been evident because Corvo stood, approaching you. “Tell him what he wants to hear when he does come. Just don’t get yourself killed.” It was a plea. If you died, Corvo would be next. And after him?

Emily and Dunwall.

You licked your lips, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. Julius didn’t know he was your target now, or his men. They wouldn’t expect you to be tracking them - your clients never did. You just had to treat this as any other contract; stalk your target, wait for the right moment and then strike.

Except now it wasn’t money that was on the line. It was countless lives.

“No pressure,” you huffed and Corvo smirked. 

“No pressure.” That smirk seemed to dissolve into a scowl, however, as he checked the time. A soft grunt of annoyance came from him. 

“Meeting time?” you asked and the man nodded.

“To discuss trade deals,” he explained, eyebrow raising in your direction. “With the Moss’s.”

Just at the sound of their name, your jaw clenched and heart raced. Instinctively, your left hand closed into a fist and you pulled onto the Void. It rushed into your fingers first before lighting your veins on fire, burning you from the inside out. It felt good. 

“Good, you’re ready to practice now.” A coy look was in his eyes as he noticed your glowing hand, turning to leave. “Don’t fall to your death,” he called in farewell and you cursed.

“Bastard,” you hissed, and you faintly heard a snicker as the door slammed shut.

 

Cleaning Corvo’s quarters took little time, leaving you with an empty afternoon filled to the brim with possibilities. While you had to stay out of sight, it was a definite improvement to spending your day scrubbing floors. You found yourself testing your ability to warp, gradually increasing from small distances to much more difficult challenges.

It still made your head spin and stomach churn, but you found yourself recovering quicker and more efficiently. No longer did the Void leave you winded and breathless. Instead, it left your heart aching for more. 

It was when you knocked over Corvo’s couch and broke his coffee table did you realize maybe you should practice elsewhere. The risk of being seen was too great to leave the room for a larger area, however. That left one option…

Going outside on the roof.

The threat of being spotted by guards was constant, but if you stayed up high enough the risk was lowered. Besides, if a guard spotted you you always had the ability to manipulate them or simply warp away. If they thought it was an intruder, they’d report to Corvo who would immediately know it was you. You didn’t feel like receiving a lecture from the man. Despite growing somewhat closer, he still terrified you. 

So you found yourself opening his closet in search of darker clothing. Thankfully, the man dressed as though he were Dunwall himself. You opened his dresser to find a plethora of almost entirely dark clothing. It made you snort and snicker, but you weren’t complaining. Due to his tastes, you stole a coat that would be tight enough to be easy to move in but large enough that it would conceal your identity. Hidden underneath the coat was a scarf that you could pull up high enough to hide your face and to shield you from the cold winds.

Doused in the black of night and feeling determined, you propped open one of Corvo’s windows and warped to a roof not far away.

The wind was wild at the height you found yourself standing at, whipping your hair around you. The coat thankfully did its job and protected you from the bitter touch of Dunwall’s weather, and you stood up to survey the area

You were high enough to avoid any areas of patrol but not high enough to warp to your delight. Corvo had demonstrated the night prior how to combine his abilities with movements such as rolling, jumping and so on. It had truly been amazing to watch him disappear in a flash only to reappear on the top of a chimney feet away. When you’d tried to replicate his movements, you’d simply warped through the chimney and almost halfway through the roof.

But now with the ocean’s water stinging your nose and the whisper of the Void ringing in your ears, you knew you could be like Corvo. No… You wouldn’t be like Corvo.

You’d be like you; (Y/N) Walsh, daughter of a factory worker and whore. 

So you clenched your fist, and warped.

The roofs were your playground, dipping and rising in brilliant formations that left you breathless. Your boots skidded across the roofing, but you never slipped. You were in complete control as you stretched the space around you, pulling it closer and closer until it burnt your skin with its icy touch. 

But it didn’t hurt. It didn’t make you cry out, scream, or stop. No, it spurred you on as you warped across open spaces and higher up the tower. 

It was only when you stood at the tower’s highest point did you stop, veins aflame with the Void’s toxic kiss. Your hand was sore as you straightened, looking out across Dunwall with wheezy breaths. 

The horizon was still an invitation, and the ships you saw departing were a mocking insult. It reminded you that despite whatever you could, whoever you became you’d still be stuck here. Your boots would remain scratched and dirty, your face bruised and broken, your soul chipped and stained.

The sea would never be yours. Freedom would never replace the Void in your heart. 

Something shifted in the world around you, a gust of wind nipping at the skin exposed on your face. The smell of saltwater intensified, stinging your eyes and nose as you shifted on your feet. You knew who would be beside you. It was an instinctual tug towards the anchor of the void, pulling you closer by the desire that stirred your stomach.

“Sightseeing, are we?” a familiar voice said, ringing in your ears as you faced him. The Outsider stood beside you, arms tucked behind his back as he looked out to the horizon. His appearance made the world dull, grays and blacks subduing the bright colors of the sky. But there were no dead whales floating, no cold, empty slates of rock threatening to break you.

A frown tugged on your faces at the sight of the god. You hadn’t been anticipating seeing him again. Your disappointment must’ve been obvious because those black eyes turned onto you, meeting your own gaze. His eyebrow arched, corners of his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Disappointed?”

“If I’d know you would be visiting, I wouldn’t have come up here,” you sighed, a blatant lie. And the Outsider knew it.

“There are thousands of possibilities. Almost all of them lead you here,” he hummed.

“And the ones that didn’t?” you asked.

The Outsider shifted his body to face you, eyes narrow and lips thin. “You weren’t alive.”

That wasn’t true...not here, anyways. But it still made you pale, heart dipping into your stomach. You pushed that fear away, reassuring yourself that you were alive despite all odds. This was  _ your  _ time, not the Outsider’s wild futures and possibilities. “Did you come here just to pester me?” you huffed, tucking your fear as deep as you could.

A chuckle, and you raised a brow in the God’s direction. He appeared amused at your question, cocking a head in almost a puppy-like manner. But you knew he was not puppy. If anything, he was a wolf - preparing to pounce and rip your throat out. “Is that how I make you feel?” he wondered and you huffed.

“I came here to train. You’re distracting me,” you bit back and that glimmer of amusement on his face only intensified. 

He extended a hand in an almost curtsy-like manner, gesturing to the long roof. “By all means… Practice,” he purred. You knew he was here to judge you. The Outsider wasn’t here because he cared. The God felt none of that. His presence was to remind you of who gave you your powers, of who controlled you and nipped at your heels whenever you warped.

Because even if these powers made you feel  _ free,  _ there was always a cost. You supposed that only time would reveal what the Outsider charged.

“Here to see if your powers are going to waste?” you hissed, a snarky comment. You shouldn’t have been rude to the fucking Outsider but fuck it. He unnerved you, and the God knew it. He knew everything after all. But he still appeared.

Another tilt of his head as he took a step forward. The roof sloped, and you were momentarily wondering if he would fall on his ass. But as always, he gracefully stepped across the air. “Do you believe your powers are a waste of my time?” he mused and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not here to play riddles with you,” you sighed.

“It’s not a riddle, (L/N). It’s a simple question.” Condescending prick. You nearly snarled.

“I think you’re wasting your and my time by distracting me.” 

“Am I distracting?” There. There was a tilt at the end of his sentence, a silent but simple indication of his intentions. This was a game for him. He wanted to push your buttons, to make you reveal a card in your hand. And dammit he had gotten a peek at what you would play. Those black pools looked over at you, oddly revealing more than regular eyes did. “You’ve spent your entire life with  _ distractions,  _ (L/N).”

You snapped your attention from the God, realizing he would never shut up. With another loud huff, you clenched your left hand into a fist and let the Void rip you away from the Outsider. You found it ironic the God’s very power betrayed him, whisking you away from him as you warped across the roof. 

There was nothing fancy about your movement. It was quick and efficient, putting space between you and the annoyance. But it was different with him near you. When you found yourself seeing through the walls of reality in search of location to warp to, there was something new. A song entered your ears as you drifted between time and space itself, devoid of all being and thought other than a need to simply  _ be. _

It was a familiar song, one that had been hummed to you with the soft voice of your mother. She’d sung the song when you couldn’t sleep, tracing patterns of comfort and memory into your skin. Those nights became rarer and rarer until you found yourself singing the same to Adelia, a restless babe haunted by dreams of salt and ice.

It reached for you now, promises of joy beckoning for you to approach. But even when you lost your form, even when the only anchor tying you here was the need to protect Adelia and your friends, you pulled away. Instead of finding the song, you found the Outsider standing where he had moments prior. He watched you reappear, not a sign of surprise in your appearance. 

You strut towards him, jabbing a finger in his chest. He didn’t even flinch. “What is that?” you hissed, anger swelling. The Outsider showed no visible reaction. He did not fear your fury. To him, this was another game to see your reaction. It was another test to prove your worth. And you… You were fucking sick of it. “What are you doing?”

“I am not doing anything,” he murmured in response, eyebrows raising. 

“Bullshit,” you spat before turning, pointing a finger to where you’d just been. “You hear that?” you asked, silence falling between the gust of wind. And when it was quiet, there it was. That soft song reached between the space of you two, tugging and pulling at what was in your chest. The Outsider seemed to hear it as well, raising his head slightly in recognition. “What is that? Another game?”

“Do you see me as a monster…a malevolent god that sows chaos and reaps death?” he asked, and you feared for a single moment he was angry. But he wasn’t. Instead, he seemed confused. He seemed...baffled. Had you stunned him? The idea gave you a sick sense of pleasure. “Do you believe what the Abbey preaches? Do you believe I will drive you mad and make you a slave?” A smirk. “If I wanted a slave, dear (Y/N), I wouldn’t have chosen  _ you _ .”

His words made your heart stutter and your blood chill. The sight of your expression must’ve been amusing because the Outsider turned to the side with a snicker, pacing forward. Just as before, he didn’t follow the path of the roof. He floated over the ground, something both mystifying and intimidating. 

You flexed your fingers. “The what is that noise?” you asked, feeling somewhat foolish for accusing the God in the first place. 

But if the Outsider was sore on the matter, he didn’t show it. If anything, he seemed...pleased? You didn’t know how to read this fucker, and you were damn near to giving up in all attempts. “Go to it,” he murmured, stopping in his movements. He floated there, nearly blending in with the dullness of Dunwall. But you could never not see those black eyes. “Find out.”

He then disappeared, dissolving into rock and Void. You almost went to grab him, to stop him from leaving. You needed more answers. But he was gone and you were left with nothing but the song of the Void begging you to come closer, closer, closer…

So you turned, clenched your first and warped.

When you shifted through the ground, the song’s intensity increased tenfold. It became overwhelming, pounding in your head and thrumming in your blood. Your vision tunnelled as you desperately tried to find the source, tried to uncover what it was and what it wanted. Why did it sing? Why did it scream?

You needed to know. You needed to find it. 

So you searched. You traveled along the staircase that led to the roof, then the servant passages, and even  the guard towers. But it was nowhere. You couldn’t find it no matter how hard you looked, and your body grew weaker and weaker as you used your powers so extensively. The Void wasn’t meant to be in your veins for so long. It wasn’t meant to replace the oxygen in your blood.

But it didn’t matter. You’d survived worst. 

The song lead you to an old room with a bolted door, clearly barred to keep people from entering. You placed a hand against the wood, the hum nearly deafening. But when your hand touched the door, the song stopped. It cut off almost immediately, leaving your ears ringing and silence deafening. A soft gasp came from you, first shocked and then angry. 

That fucking song had led you on a wild goose chase. It had made you push your body past limits no normal person should ignore. There were black spots in your vision from the exhaustion that threatened to undo you, but the anger pushed it all back. Just as the Void’s intoxicating touch had done, the anger kept you going. It filled your mind and body with its white hot rage as you pushed against the door. It didn’t budge.

“On the brink of a great understanding, a door stops you,” a familiar voice said and you didn’t have to look to know the Outsider was beside you. That smell of sea salt stung your nose, and you bared your teeth at the door.

“You led me here. Why?” you hissed.

“The Void led you here…not me,” he corrected and you shot him a glare from the side of your eyes. He was facing you, arms crossed and eyebrows arched. God, you fucking hated him. He looked like a cat as it dropped a rat on your pillow, wanting to feed you and not understanding your screams of horror. If your head wasn’t pounding and the door didn’t stand in your way, you’d be amused. “So what will you do? Warp through the door and risk losing yourself to the lust of power, or admit defeat?”

A snort. Did he really think you wouldn’t warp? Another glance revealed his intentions, and you faced him now. “You know what’s on the other side. The Void didn’t bring me here just for fun. It brought me here for a reason,” you said, anger draining away into caution. You were curious, yes. You had a lust to know why this room...what was behind that door...what it meant. But you would not get yourself killed. You had Beth, you had Emily, you had Adelia… 

The Outsider knew all this, but here he stood with that dumb fuckin smile on his face. He treasured this - to see what path you decided to take. He knew what you could do. He knew what fate would await you based on what choice you made. But he had no idea  _ what  _ you would do. He didn’t know if you’d leave, if you break it down, and so on.

You could walk away to spite him. You could never let him know what would happen, but the Void itself had brought you here. It had given you its powers. Why would it waste you? Why would it kill you? Maybe the Void and the Outsider was cruel. Maybe they were both monsters hellbent on deceiving and killing.

But the Abbey hadn’t helped you yet, and it wouldn’t help you now.

You clenched your hand into a fist, letting the Void kiss your sore body once again. Your body wept for release from the Void. It wept for you to rest, to sleep and eat. But you ignored it. You ignored everything else other than the song that was inside the room. What was it? What was it?

_ What was it?  _

That door melted away as you warped through it into the room. When you lost form, the song was a soft beat. No longer was it overwhelming. It was inviting, warming, comforting…

And it grew into a heartbeat in your chest as you reappeared into an empty room. Dust lingered in the air, old wooden boards full of rat shit and dirt. An old table was pushed against the far wall, the one that held the source of the song. You coughed at the muck in the air, casting a quick glance around only to see...nothing.

There was nothing wrong with the room. 

“Is this some joke?” you asked the air, waiting for the Outsider to appear beside you. He’d been so intent on seeing your choice so you figured he’d accompany you. But he did not. You stood in the empty room, alone with the source of the song. You looked around in confusion.

There was nothing evil. There was nothing menacing or life threatening. So why had it been blocked off? Why had the Outsider watched you with such speculative eyes?

You found yourself asking “why” more and more these days. Maybe the Void was driving you insane, making you question everything. 

It didn’t matter. You needed to find the source of the song and return to Corvo’s quarters. You’d wasted enough time flitting about in search of whatever  _ this  _ was. So you took a deep breath and turned, going to approach the table.

It was covered in dust and cobwebs, which was no surprise. This place had clearly been untouched for a long time. That neither reassured or warned you, but it did make you more curious. What had warranted multiple blocks of wood nailed against it? Why was this place banned from entry?

A small, ornate box lay on the table, and you were certain in it you’d find the answers. Besides the table, it was the only object in the room. You slowly placed your hands over it, feeling a rush of energy surge through your body. Your mark lit on your hand, a brilliant light casting over the dark room. The song returned in your ears, growing in volume as you stood there. 

Your body demanded you open the box. The void demanded you open the box. The box demanded you  _ open the box.  _

So you unlatched it, and you opened it.

It wasn’t some reality breaking object. It wasn’t the heart of a child, like the Abbey warned. It wasn’t even a weapon. No, it was a piece of bone - a circular piece of bone with a familiar mark etched into it. You furrowed your brow, raising your left hand. Yes, the carving in the piece of bone was the Mark of the Outsider.

It was a rune. You’d only ever seen them in the black market, poorly made pieces of contraband. You’d bought one when you were younger for luck. It hadn’t worked, as you’d realized when family member by family member died. As result, you’d lost faith in the Outsider and the Void. You’d begun to believe neither were real.

But here you stood - slowly lifting the rune into your hand. When you flesh finally made contact with it, that song stopped. It cut off, interrupted and discontinued. Your mark flared as the Void sealed its kiss over whatever was the source of the hum. But the energy it filled you with remained, making goosebumps prick your skin and the hairs on your neck stand. 

A familiar rush of cold air swept from behind, and you turned on your heel to see the Outsider. You’d expected to still be in the room but instead you were in the harsh, bitter Void. You frowned as the Outsider did a grand sweep with his arm. “Tell me, (Y/N),” he began and you sighed, crossing your arms. Great, another speech. “Did you think you’d end up here, in the Void bearing my Mark?” he asked, but you didn’t humor him with an answer. 

“Why am I here?” you asked instead, fixing him with a hard stare. The rune thrummed against your skin, energy still surging through your veins as you held contact with it. “What...what is this?” You raised the rune.

A cock of the God’s head, long fingers lazily rising individually. “A means to gain power.” That made your heart stutter. More...power? You weren’t at your limits already? You could control people and warp through walls. What more could you ask for? What more could your body  _ handle _ ? The Outsider chuckled. “You didn’t think that’s all you could do, did you? Play with people’s minds and go through walls?” He said it like mind control and teleporting were no big deal. 

His hand raised, and the rune shot from your hand. It was pulled to him and as it left your touch, that energy subsided. It disappeared, and you found yourself feeling wholly empty. Your soul ached as that rune went into the Outsider’s palm, and as his fingers wrapped around it, you realized what he’d do.

“You belong to so many worlds (Y/N) (L/N)...but can you alternate each one?” he mused before crushing the rune. 

There was an immediate change. It was almost like a shockwave rippled through the Void, and all that energy that had been drained from you returned in a rush. The sheer force dropped you to your knees, a wheezing gasp coming from you as you collapsed. The Void’s cold wind caressed your suddenly hot and sweaty skin, whispering ludicrous promises and suggestions.

_ Black eyes… Pale skin… Sea salt and blood…  _

You cried out as the burning of power burned away at you from the inside out. You couldn’t stop it. No matter how loud you screamed, no matter how many promises you agreed to, no matter what it would not stop. What was happening? What was this rune doing?

What had the Outsider done?

Footsteps, and then a shadow over you. Through the agony, you opened your eyes with a gasp to see the God. He cocked his head, dark, bottomless eyes tracing the sweat on your body and the blood on your bit lip. “Don’t worry,” he cooed. “You’re far too interesting to kill.”

A single finger traced the Mark, and the pain stopped. Just as the song had, the pain came to a sudden, abrupt stop. Your veins stopped burning, your insides stopped bleeding and your mind became silent. That finger slowly left your arm, and you looked to the Outsider with wide eyes. He looked like a cat, toying with the mouse he would kill. 

“The Void is infinite, but power is not. Learn to harness both, (L/N), and you will test the paths not yet taken.” Black eyes flickered from your own to your hand. Amusement glinted in those pools. “I wonder…” 

You waited for him to continue, but his response was merely a disappearance of edged shadows and cold wind. For a moment, you lay there and simply breathed, waiting for the pain to suddenly return. You waited for the burning, for the screaming, for the absolute agony of whatever...that was.

Why had it been so much more painful than your initial marking? Was that a good sign, or a bad? And what did the Outsider mean when he said you’d test the paths not yet taken? 

As usual, the meeting with the Outsider left you with more questions than before. And this time, it left you with more pain and a headache.

But you brushed it aside. You had to. You were stranded in the Void with nothing but a riddle and an imp of a god. You had your mark, but all you knew to do was warp and control the mind. There were no minds to control, however, and no places to warp.

The Outsider was gone, and with him was your way back. 

The Void… Power…  _ Learn to harness both. _

With a sharp breath, you got to your feet. For a moment you wavered, almost stumbling and falling from the rush of blood. But you didn’t - instead spinning on your feet to cast a look around. There had to be a hint somewhere. There had to be a sign, a clue,  _ anything  _ to give you an idea of what to do. 

But there was nothing. There was nothing but the Void and the mark on your hand. 

You looked at the mark, trying to think. When the rune had broken, it’d hurt. But when you’d held it, you felt rejuvenated and...powerful. “Fucking pale, moody asshole,” you hissed, pinching the bridge of your nose. Anger flared in your chest and you threw your head back, shouting, “How do I get back?!” 

Your voice echoed in the infinite, timeless Void, bouncing back and forth between invisible walls and off unseen paths. But there was no answer from the God. Another curse and you stalked the rocky platform you were on, muttering and thinking.

_ Learn to harness both. _

Your fingers clenched into fists, the mark thrumming with the movement. 

_ Learn to harness both. _

There was nothing in the Void except you.

_ Learn to harness both. _

Wait… 

_ A means to gain power. _

_ Learn to harness both. _

The rune had given you a new power. That was why it had hurt - your body and mark were adapting to the sudden change. The raw power was so intense it had nearly destroyed you, but the Outsider had saved you. You thought back to Corvo. Had the same thing happened to him? Did his powers hurt him as well?

Maybe that was why the marked went insane. The pain, the fear… And the Outsider’s ridiculous fucking riddles. You would go insane at this rate too.

With a newfound purpose, you took a deep breath and looked to your mark. You’d discovered how to use your other powers on accident each time. You had never intended to control Mark’s mind, but your anger had motivated you. You had never intended to warp to the Outsider when he taunted you, but you anger had moved you.

Were you angry right now? 

Fuck yeah you were.

The Outsider was playing games with you. He was toying with you, saying things to make you twist and turn to his pleasure. There were hints thrown at you, making you look wildly as though you were some startled animal. There were messages delivered with various meanings, wasting time that would otherwise be valuably spent on saving Corvo, Emily and Adelia. 

You didn’t have time for this. You didn’t have the patience for this. So you clenched your hand into a fist, and searched for that energy and pain that once seared your veins. 

And you were right. There was something new in you, something powerful. It made made goosebumps prickle to life on your skin, it made your blood rush… It was intoxicating. It was addictive. So you reached for it. You reached into that power and grasped it tight, letting it squeeze through the cracks of your fingers and ooze. 

Suddenly, you no longer felt just that power. There was more underneath in. There was more connected to it. You felt the very ground you stood upon and the invisible paths it connected to, their unending length and possibilities. You felt the world around you, constantly shifting and changing to the whims of the Outsider. For a moment, you wondered if you now possessed abilities similar to the God.

So you reached and tried to mold the very stone you stood upon, but nothing happened. You tried to make one of the Outsider’s beloved whales drift by, but nothing happened. Every time you tried to make something, every time you tried to mold the Void to your wish there was nothing in response. 

Damn, so you weren’t a God. You felt disappointed for a moment, but that turned into determination. You still could influence  _ something  _ of this world. 

There was something new and fierce in both your body and soul. You’d only ever felt this when you swam to the shore that awful night you lost everything. You’d only ever felt it the day Adelia went to the school for the first. And you’d only felt this when you finally killed Mark.

You let that feeling take hold of you, allowing it to control you. It told you to move forward, and so you did. It told you to reach forward, and so you did. The Void rippled under your touch, shuddering and expanding around you. 

You’d been in love. You’d felt love. You found it in a fisherman’s sons arms before he set sail only to never return. You found it in the baker’s apprentice, a woman who smuggled you bread before being killed in a robbery. But the love of the Void was something that outshone everyone you’d kissed, everyone you held, everyone you lay with… 

All those pieces that’d broken over the years of living in slums and fighting for your life were repaired. The jagged sides of your heart were smoothed over as if they were simply clay. The trauma in your ligaments were bandaged and sewn back together. The scars that paled your skin melted away into fresh, baby-like flesh. 

And your body? Your soul? It crossed something no person should cross. No longer was the Void your world. You existed in some plane in between as you shifted from two realities, memories of both flashing before your eyes. Your home was white, and the Void was black. But where you were momentarily suspended was nothing but gray. You reached back out to stop moving, but you couldn’t.

It all disappeared, ripping away from your hand as those wooden floors reappeared underneath you. That musty smell of dust hit you, and you opened your eyes, not even realizing they’d been closed. What you saw shocked you, however.

You were back in the room you’d found the rune - the very rune the Outsider had taken you from. A wheeze came from you as you pushed yourself to your feet, head snapping left in right in absolute shock. Blood rushed to your head as you shakily stood, gasping as your brain processed what the fuck had just happened.

Moments ago, you’d been in the Void with no way out. The Outsider had left, leaving you with nothing but clues and riddles. When you’d gone to use your powers… Another gasp. You weren’t in the Void anymore. And the Outsider hadn’t helped you, so how…

“Your third gift, and the most powerful,” that damn voice said again, and you turned around with a growl. The Outsider stood by the barred door, hands clasped in front of him. That cocky smirk had returned as well, and you wished you had a power to punch him a million times in just one moment. That would be the most  _ useful  _ gift you could receive. “The ability to shift between worlds is  _ yours.”  _

The Void left your veins as you lay there on the ground, watching and listening to the Outsider’s world. It left you sore and exhausted, black spot flickering in your vision. You’d used too much of the Void, you’d pushed your body too far… 

“You control your fate… I wonder what path you shall take.”

You could close your eyes. You could go to sleep and rest. There were so many “paths” you could choose, so you chose the most predictable one. 

You pushed yourself to your feet, blinking past unconsciousness, and breathing heavily. The Outsider watched you with obvious curiosity. Slowly approaching him, you continued to work through that exhaustion, that desire-no, need for rest. There were places you were needed, people you had to find and save. You licked your lips as you stopped just before the God, raising your gaze to his.

You could smell the salt off his skin, mixed with copper and bone. It stung your nose as you leveled the God with your eyes, looking deep into those pits of black. They seemed to go on forever, and you feared for a moment you’d drown in them. But you pulled back, you smiled and said, “Fuck your paths. Fuck your endings. Fuck your game.”

You didn’t wait to see the God’s reaction, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. With the clench of your first, you warped through the wall and left the Outsider behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGAIN - I thank you all for your love. If you've read a lot of my work, I love and thank you so much. You guys keep me writing. Seeing your comments make it ALL worth it. And thanks to anyone who's been around with me since my first fics. Hmu some time : )
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